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
INTELLECTUAL COPYRIGHT PROTECTED