Happy Independence Day!

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Back then, the brute was blunt,
Antagonism was far more proclaimed,
The villain had the balls to spit enmity,
In public, throw up stinky contempt,
Shone our target, we knew where exactly to head,
Fouled us for no cards red, had us boil in a soup of rage,
The hungry was taught sour lessons of dignity, self-respect,
Swords, cannons, then bombs of dissent,
We bought him down by the neck, sought was Independence,
But, it was retribution for all the pain back then,
Now, the enemy is far more sly,
Unseen it lingers close by,
Having applied that lotion of technology, it awaits in disguise,
To strike from behind hedges of pretense…

Debaroon’2013

(India celebrates its 66th Independence Day…)

 

 

Image credits: http://24by7news.com

‘Garments of Reality’

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Dusk swooped down on the tech-city,

Yearning eyes of her door,

Awaited its lone owner,

The latch craved a familiar touch,

To be unbolted by someone very own,

Someone, similarly used to smiling on the surface,

At all her colleagues, friends and clients,

Like her door at every passerby, every guest, from the outside,

While, like her, it wept lonely inside…

Turning keys lent it a sweet tickle,

The wood knew, she was here,

Soon, it gave away, flung open,

Panted the door,

Shy with little to offer her, indebted it felt,

Every day, she presented him much-coveted ventilation,

Her nostrils swiftly leaped into action,

Exhaled stress,

Thin smoke from her spirit, over-baked ,

Inhaled afresh,

Suffused her lungs with air of independence and comfort,

Tossed to the sofa, her bag squatted in frowns,

Off her interest, off her shoulders for the day,

Abandoned, it wept, useless, out of her attention scope,

In sobs, mourned her distance,

She flipped sides, suspired love,

A fish out of water,

Aspired unshaken pinpointed attention,

Even that bed squeaked,

Bored of its owner, thirsty for affection,

Now, infected, it too longed some passionate action,

‘Garments of Reality’ disrobed,

Too spent to reach the wardrobe,

She chucked them aside,nearby,

Stripped real, she stretched,

Envisioned a broad shoulder to rest on,

That she cuddled into someone,

Soon,into an ocean, she slipped away,

To the depths of bliss, toppled by waves of illusion,

Into the naked surreal…

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To sink further, she chose,

Forget ways to keep afloat, to swim ashore,

Soon, her skin began sensing his rubs,

Unaware, lost in her whiff, relentlessly worshiped was her temple of curves,

Relishing her worth, unfolded by his touch,

She embraced unblemished absolute submission,

Consumed his chest, moaned, she groaned,

Hung from his shoulders,

Her hair caressed, her dimples shone,

Love acknowledged her existence,

Applauded the Lord for His creation,

Beautiful, sculpted with decades of dedication,

Gratitude towards her celestial Artist,

Celebration of his virtuoso,

Ran through her veins,

Her blood tasted every drop of it,

Losing it to his eyes,

Dumb to her conquests then, her wins shoved aside,

Craved her soul to be devoured for life,

For a passionate defeat,

To drag her EdgingGodOut(ego) monsters to the altar of sacrifice,

She bit his ear, before she whispered,

“Love, life’s too single-shaded for me,

Can you bring in some colors?

My years cannot wear away, lovelorn,

Simply licking away lonely success,

After all my hard-work, locked-room labors,

Those tornadoes that I had to wage through to prove myself,

Those sleepless nights, those ceaseless corporate tempests,

I would want to catch glimpses of a new beginning,

In your arms, post-rains, when we’re done with torrential showers,

I would want it to be bright again…”

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Poked by Sun-rays, through half-lifted shutters,

She eyes her ‘Garments of Reality’, puts them on to rise up and see,

Only crumbled sheets overlapped her honor,

Gone was the passion priest,

Still cloudy for a late Sunday,

Lazy legs, a yawning mind tumbled in sways to the balcony,

Rains had ceased, ensured croaking frogs, Crickets ticking aloud,

Up in that dimly lit sky,

A glance of her love, dangling his legs down from the clouds,

Seated on moist white sponge, on floating couches of delusion,

He was painting a gigantic rainbow…

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Debaroon’2013

 

 

Images from : http://www.interestingfacts.org, http://ciclaninha.wordpress.com, http://colorfully.eu, http://aiyiwood.en.supplierlist.com