Poetry: February 18, 2008

Whom the ‘blessing’ bestows with flame 
Will attempt to tempt with fam
Its terms of entitlement and a schedule 
Of course, the ‘blessing’ is casual 
Is sneaky, coy and gradual, but often hops 
Like blades of lightening, between our laps. 
And like synonyms dream, concerned that, 
The ‘blessing’ not lay in time like stitches 
Oozing its pus from the seams. 
Whom, can therefore only wait 
And if too full of themselves, masturbate.


As the ‘blessing’ flows 
So does my bloody nose 
I would love to punch it 
But my knuckles wouldn’t 
Even crunch it 
Besides, it would just retreat, 
Until the next time my head 
Were at the top of my feet.


Gianni was no circus beast 
Panthers had too much stretch 
Too much pride and no tendencies 
To endure expensive games of ‘fetch’ 
Just to think of it made him wretch 
His collar would remain untamed 
All nature was his feast, he would 
Play no hoops with rings of fire, 
Would not be blamed, at least 
While dancing with shadows 
And butterflies, the ‘Monarch’s 
That he’d catch.


COPYRIGHT SANANDA MAITREYA
MILANO 18th FEBRUARY 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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