Poem About Nothing

I wrote a new poem today
With nothing much to really say
I'm just filling up the page
To feel I've earned my daily wage

I now have written a paragraph
Without saying much at all
I hope with clever play on words
The audience's impatience to stall

You still keep reading even though
I tell you there's nothing to read below
This is the trick I try to master
At the risk of complete disaster

For if you haven't read this far
This poem I write has no cause
I write only to please myself
But i do crave your applause

Still you read, ah, lucky me!
You are of an angelic mind
To please you further I shall try
Another paragraph to grind

But wordplay too has its limits
I cannot write forever after
The applause you give so graciously
May soon turn to mocking laughter

But I'll take myself to the brink
With a cheeky grin and a sly wink
If there is even the faintest hope
Of you treading this slippery slope

For if I succeed, I have attained
That which genius never gained
Credit received for no work done
I guess that makes me a Kardashian

Writer's Block

There once lived a poet called Mediocrity
He hath not talent worth two dimes
But life had provided him plenty of stories
Stories that he’d convert into rhymes

He observed well, this sleuth of a man
Occurrences around were duly noted
And when these occurrences in poetry ran
On his work the whole world doted

But Fate will not be one’s friend forever
Six billion at once vie for her love
She is generous at heart, Fate, our mother
But jealous is the Lord up above

Life introduced him to Monotony
Events of any interest dried away
His river of creativity lay empty
And the dam of Originality held sway

NH 7 Weekend

I walked the street alone at dawn
Gazing at the rising sun
When on my way i did see
A vehicular catastrophe

Drunken men did the car drive
On drunks does this vile city thrive
And inebriated driving leads to only death
And so the fools took their last breath

Their blood lay dripping on the road
Their guts had outwards blown their load
I pranced around the carcasses strewn
In a fancy Rigadoon

The blood crept under the soles of my feet
Fall i did, and foreign blood eat
It didnt taste vile though it was no gourmet
I could still smell though, the body's decay

I walked on and encountered our watchman
The man whose width did the entire gateway span
Face drenched with blood he spotted, horrified,
There was no way he was gonna let me inside

I returned alone as i had begun
Hunger, starvation and the crippling sun
I had no choice but to go back and eat
pungent blood poured on human meat

And once i had devoured my meal
I came at once to tell you the real
Story
Even if it is quite gory

Eid Mubarak

We lay together, quiet, unmoved.

I lay with my back to her, with one of her arms wrapped around me, the other stroking my hair.
Her soft hand lulling me into a tranquil sleep as it had so many times before. I was in that twilight state where I could no longer be sure if I was dreaming or awake. Her hand inched down to my neck, tracing circles and sending delicious shivers down my spine.

She rubbed my neck, pressing down a little harder now as I sank deeper into unconsciousness, enjoying every moment. She pressed harder still. It began to hurt just a bit. I frowned as the pain began to get a little uncomfortable. But the drowsiness still lay heavy on my mind.  The pressure was really beginning to hurt. I tried shifting to indicate my discomfort, but her arm clamped down in a vice like grip.

I was wide awake now.  This shouldn’t even be a struggle, she was much smaller than me. But it was taking an incredible effort just to extricate myself from her grip.  I was finding it hard to breathe as her hand, so tender just moments ago, pressed ever harder.  I gave an almighty heave and managed to push her off me, as I jumped off the bed and turned to give her an incredulous stare.

She looked straight back at me, no expression on her face. She might as well have been dead.
She looked different, as if the light had died out from her eyes. Yet she seemed to possess a strength unnatural for someone her size. Something was off here. Very off.

I called her name uncertainly, I did not get a reaction. She advanced on me slowly, no emotion apparent.
A cold dread descended on me. There was something unnatural happening here, I could feel it.
I did not dwell on that thought for too long, I could not. She had covered the distance between us in three measured steps and, still expressionless, swung her hand and struck me with a shattering blow.
I lay flat on the ground, my head swimming, ears ringing. I struggled to see anything with my eyes watering profusely. Through the gloom I saw her shape stand above me. She held something in her hand, I couldn’t quite make out what. She raised her arm once more and brought it down upon my head. My head split open, blood gushing out. Excruciating pain drowned out any other thought or emotion from my brain. I writhed pathetically on the floor, screaming in agony.

She stared at me blankly, leant down towards me, brought her lips to my ear.
“Eid Mubarak,” she whispered, and she walked out of the room. 

An Update to my Master

A kingly feast, a friendly beast,

A concert I will not forget
Companionship, Barbecue cheese dip
As good as life will get

Durga Puja ended today
Tomorrow they drown their God
In  a river full of filth and slime
While they themselves are jewel shod

They pose, they smile, Quite infantile
Their attempts at merrymaking
Their smiles are fake, the strain does take
Their jaws past the point of breaking

Confused, forlorn, I stand alone
In the midst of this festival gay
Wry is my smile, on the miracle mile
I stand amongst them, yet far away

Disenchantment in me was rife
What good is gaiety amongst an ocean of strife
He who dares claim to have attained inner peace
His toxic lies do noxious fumes release

But post 9 pm my outlook changed
The creases left my strained brow
All it took to lighten the load
Was the underside of one dead cow.

In the Mind of a Little Brother

A rustle, a crash, a groan, a scream
Awoke me from my blissful dream
The peace shattered, I opened my eye,
"Who dareth awake me, and why?"

My sister sat there guilty-eyed
A broken vase too, I espied,
And as if to complete the tale
Her face became a ghostly pale

Her hand with broken shards was filled
The shards that the vase's corpse had spilled
Her white frock became a morbid red
From the blood that her guilty hands shed

I stared down at her quivering face,
"In fear, woman loses all her grace!"
So felt I, as I stared down
At my sister with a menacing frown

Tears down her face came streaming
Pathetic guilt in her apologies teeming,
She wrapped her bloody hands round my knee
Groveling and blubbering her desperate plea

I softened my tone, stroking her head
Sat her down on the edge of the bed
Laying to rest all her qualms,
I took her into my comforting arms.

Naive Woman! To believe that I,
Her brother, would not deign to lie,
She sighed in relief, let down her guard
And I stabbed her with a jagged shard

Her neck first I did pierce,
Stabbed at it with a passion fierce
As soon as her writhing body went slack
I went to work upon her back

A merry tune I whistled and sung
As I sliced into her now lifeless tongue
Then I carved a message on her face,
"A woman must always know her place"

Dance of the Zalongos

They awoke to the sound of screams,

Despairing wails and wretched moans

Their city, once beautiful, was being reduced

To crushed pebbles and crumbling stones

The onslaught was unstoppable

The enemy numbered too great

The men fought valiant and strong

But which man can overpower fate?

The walls soon tottered and fell

Rubble and dust reigned supreme

The end of the battle drew nigh

The streets with corpses teemed

The men knew the end they faced

They’d fight on until they perished

The women too were of one mind

For above all, their pride they cherished

For it is the fate of every war

That when a victor arises

The defeated men die fighting

And the women are claimed as prizes

A hardened race these women were

Unused to a life of leisure

Their pride would not see them turned

Into a mere source of pleasure

They marched resolute, stony-faced

Straight onwards to the cliff’s edge

They marched silent, unwavering

Taking strength from their unspoken pledge

Each woman led from in front

While her children followed close behind

Till every family in the land of Zalongo

Up against the cliff’s edge was lined

Suddenly up amongst them arose

A chant of great depth and fervor

A woman grasped her child’s small hand

And the firstborn was thrown over

They pitched, they swayed,

In stormy cavalcade

And the chanting only did grow

The mother’s eyes wild

She followed her child

Into the watery depths below

The singing still grew

As each mother threw

Her child to meet its doom

With great song and laughter

She followed right after

Still humming the deathly tune

The marauders stood silent

Awestruck watched the tyrant

As six hundred took their own lives

The army was victorious

Their victory was glorious

But none remained to be claimed as their prize