// a poem //

Let me read out a poem.

Look, I m serious

as I am,

wrapped within poet’s look and style

and wink at nothingness,

attuned with gestures and shrugs

I rhythm words

exactly the way I have spilled here

my little emotions

or whatever,

Ah!!

Didn’t I tell you that,

I am a poet!

Man!

I am honestly serious,

I promise, I am poet!

You know for thirty two years

I exiled myself

in an isolation

bricked my walls in solitudes

to muse upon a thing

poetry.

Isn’t it funny!

But that’s a long tale

of history,

You know, I never bury my days in pasts.

As a poet

I live with the diachronic present,

as now, here is a poem.

Shall I read it to you?

A fresh poem

unpublished yet

I wrote it last night,

A awesome hangover

when I felt

poetry is a thorn

under my tongue,

all were asleep,

except the woman

who was coughing pain

like a poem

on the bed, bit ill,

my wife.

I wishes I should have read it to her,

but I kept it for you,

for you have a claim

over my words.

Believe me, I wrote it for you,

Last night, I swear,

It will be my first read to you.

Wait,

Let me read at least

a first few lines to you.

Shall I read???