Ethereal Substance


I am sure, the devil has possessed me.
Else, why should he follow me to no-end?

Walks to my right and sneaks to my left,
Kneels in front and flees behind,
Leaps over shoulder and scales down to my feet.

A Laurel this moment, and a Hardy the immediate,
Skewed like a fool,
Plays “Tom and Jerry” with me
Damn! Don’t ask me, but he dons every quixotic form.
If I walk up to light, he lurks behind me,
And if I put it out, he embraces from behind scaring me.
He apes and irritates me, whenever I was conscious about him.

Vexed, folding my hands, I prayed, “When shall you leave me?”
“Gosh! I am a Siamese twin of your somatic form, baby,
Sticking like incense to the myrrh.
It’s your choice whether you burn and leave your aroma behind
Or wallow in the mundane to return to dust like the rest.”

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2 Comments

  1. Dear Sir,

    this is another master-piece. The “IT” that is bothering you is nothing but your own bad-mind; burn it, good-mind is filtered as is done by a goldsmith in his daily work. The poem is good-worded.

    yours friendly,
    Madhavarao.

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