Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Dirty dishes

The dishes are dirty
The spoons grimy

The cups filled with remains of yesterday's tea
The bowls lined with salt from the raging sea

The table decorated by the left over’s of last night
Gravy on the wall, witness to the fight

You asked me if there was another one
I asked if I was missing the pun

She said no, she found the lipstick stained shirt
The perfume filled hanky and the long forgotten beach's dirt

I tried to reason with her, tell her that it was all her mind playing tricks
I was trying to escape her wrath, telling her she was throwing imaginary bricks

She left me in a while
I was left with a dirty pile

The dishes are dirty
The spoons grimy

Friday, August 27, 2010

The weighing machine

Before you begin it all, you stand on me
making a note of what I display, you make a silent plea

Oh god, please help me convince the scale
help me pass in this exam coz on my own I'll fail

You run, sweat, sacrifice your sweets
you start avoiding friend's treats

You watch everything that goes into you
You eat only things that on trees grew

You sweat every day and night, hoping to please me
I do not budge, you have not done enough for me

You look at the chocolates and then at me, resting on the throne
How you wish you could force me to show some good news

You cry in anguish and pain
you think it was all in vain

A little more sweat, a little less food
and you would have been all good

I will oblige when you stand on me once again
And I will tell you, it was worth the pain.