Everything Apart From Coloured Leg Warmers

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Since we're all following this post a poem or post a song format I bet Keshava started, I guess it'll eventually be my turn. And so I'm hurrying it up and getting it over with.
(please remember that I simply write poetry because I like doing so, not because I'm any good)


Windows half closed, curtains pulled tight
Murmuring voices through cellophane light
Her powdered cheeks shine dimly and
Black rimmed eyes search the tiny
Velvet folds in the chairs
And between the yellow-stained sheets.
Crumpled notes and coins
Will get her another beer, perhaps
Some lace stockings to go with the lipstick
Before he comes back.
He’s always coming back,
Greedy and fat, pockets bursting
With more money for more love.
The door is weak with crumbling
Paint, locks won’t hold.
Anyway, he’d push through
Until he reached the heart she’d sold
Long ago. Her heavy breathing
Echoes past the thin walls
As another maid knocks out
Room service, ma’am?

(This one actually has a title, but it suddenly sounds so pretentious. Oh well. "paper love in an old hotel room" or better still, poem #38)

3 Comments:

Blogger a.v.koshy said...

not as bad as you think but i've read a poem you wrote that was better ...

8:29 AM  
Blogger Mallika said...

which one?

7:57 PM  
Blogger a.v.koshy said...

something you gave in for a competition

8:54 PM  

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