Mediaval Bed

Medieval bed

An old bed for a medieval brothel

dances around in sinuous harem pants

that really are wind blown mosquito nets.

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Blackbird fountain pen leaks at its bladder’s end;

smears the song for a ghost I know present

at the very moment behind my head

hovering to see me one last time before dream

eats me, consumes me and vomits my soul

in the morning next upon the ancient bed…

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar

The broken road to heaven

The broken road in need of maintenance 

through which we have traveled, mute and solemn

to our delight

was alight with millions of glow bugs;

evening was another leaf fallen

when I whisper to my friend Richard,

“Is it heaven? Have we arrived at last?”

he smiled,  “we are yet to reach my home.”

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar