ON MY BIRTHDAY
Carve for me an Alexandrine
It may be needless
Make me happier than Magdalene
It may be meaningless
Prepare my plantain with margarine
That may be tasteless
Feed my soul with sweetest hymn
Ye,I'm still eaten up by the paradigms of:
aging and its discontinuity
"live -and- stop living"
well-spent days and the desired joy
lengthy years and the very near end
"here I come" and "goodbye ,world"
caring and being cared for
living,but a fulfilled life
All shall lurk in me and and colour my mood
As if the:
Count should start again
the flowers should flourish beyond their worn-out looks
I should be sired again by a conqueror
the path should be smoothly substituted
a ban be put on the compulsory exit
the departed skirts be replaced with wrappers.
Nay,all are absolutely impossible
They all flee with time
They spell "impossible"
Of what use is the erring declaration:
Presence of joy,invites to death
Celebration of wealth and loss of breathe
caring for lies and neglect for bitter truth
incorrigible dirt and easy cleansing.
God,do.me a rare favour:
Show me my dirty bin and my holy deed
I'd weigh them and judge myself
Before thy Paternal ban on correction
Show me my abode when I depart
A rest place or where thirst starts?
As if I'll pass, my joy elevates
As if it's worse,my sight is blurred
Beat for me the loudest gong
Play for me the trending song
Their handwriting vanishes at once
P