Not Drawing a Pension

You know by 70, The dentures could do you A world of good. Oh you  Poor smiley face! How your dentures, resemble coconut White teeth, that sponsor A smile each time you go to town, To buy the newspaper, the Daily Mirror. You are borderline, in The diaper zone, wondering When your money will run…

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A Fairy Tale inside the Backseat of a Car

How beautiful is a green sapling, An earthling with leaves, greener than a dollar bill, Clutching onto meadows of chlorophyll, Absorbing the light from the heavens, To build a chain that becomes, The endosperm, inside the angiosperm, What powers the anaemic body, and the tender breast, How rice thrown over the head, also fills a…

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Sri Lanka

### How beautiful for a country, To come out of her mother’s uterus,   A bundle of rock, sand and clay, Drifting out through the pelvic bones, The Western and Eastern Ghats,   She, the infant Sri Lanka, breaking out, Of the Deccan Plateau, from Mother India’s womb,   Burrowing through the mucus, the slime,…

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The Old Grand Father’s Clock

A grumpy old man, whose Right hand, like the longer Arm of a Grand Father’s clock, Came to a final full stop. Just like, how a man, with Parkinson’s, Was cured by one dose of the afterlife. How a Grand Father’s clock ticked on to a moment, When he was just like an old man…

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The Habit

I say “fuck you”, to all the warnings, And the cancer pics on cigarette packs, Everything about me is Joe, Like that song on Cotton Eye Joe, knowing That I’m just a John Doe, To passers by and to a future coffin, While my lungs turn to the common cold, And then to a bout…

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Love

The eternal pause of a body, Divine and yet mortal, Keeping up with love, on a pedestal,  The glowing object a woman is; Shimmering irises, selenographic face Encroaching lips, that know How only what God can Assemble together, is the bounty Of true love, the type that combusts On planks of wood. The rewards of…

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Unemployment

Reality check, when you Look at your unlimited wealth Of a timescape, the horizons Packed against each other, Each a NY minute, And I, smelling the roses by The roadside, the thorn-less blooms That I see only now. I wish I had seen all of it before, and yet I see the shoulder of my…

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The Man Hypothesis

Swell, how we make it work, the sacrifices and pleas. We are like a compartmentalized train, The engine making us travel through The scenery and the tunnels, Day and night, the long road to a place Far far away, embracing the sun and the moon And the ever-blurring dusk, Which makes you return home, No…

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The Truth (A Poem)

## Who possesses An aura of underestimation, And yet bears no shadow of fabrication, even exaggeration, Who will always be a perennial virgin, From infant to spinster, In the absence of intercourse, With myth or fiction. Who is forever unclothed Not necessarily transparent, A woman that can hold no lover, Or bear no child, Who…

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