The Peacock and the corgi

A peacock went on a walk with a corgi dog

The corgi ran low on sugar and turned into a bulldog

Peacock thought how pretty she looked in the green park

Till she poured cold tea water on any peacock’s   spark

Peacock took her to art galleries two

Then she said she was in love with art too

But when Peacock took her near to her place

Bulldog growled I need breathing space

Maybe the peacock talked too much and maybe it said the wrong words

Maybe he was always on whats app and maybe he was too old for the words

Maybe he was consumed by his doubts

Maybe ,Peacock told himself, maybe once too many aloud

So chin up and shoulders down

We hunch and await and the next batter up round

We have much more thanks to give and much less to complain

Occasionally my peacock’s life does give him a twinge me some pain

The peacock promised his friend willow and it promised his old friend gigoid

The peacock shall strive to fill the emptiness in his gaping void

The peacock shall replace his leather coat with his tweed coat

The peacock shall try till the corgis takes note

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Friends Again

We exchanged pictures of food on the phone

I guess we were lonesome and a wee bit alone

We became the best of friends in just a few days

Till people intervened and we   seperated ways

Know still my friend I think of you

Know still my friend I miss our talks too

But I think you are infatuated and I think I  like you too much

Age is a barrier to our friendship as such

Your smile and your honesty was wonderful to my day

Your touching story took my empathy away

I am sorry I hurt you even though I did not really mean it that time

The world is your oyster be a pearl and shine

Still I hope we can be friends

If a bit wiser and less silly than before

For what is life if but a series of events

And what is friendship if we start keeping score

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If and But

if I could then I would

but should I if I could

if and then and but and why

accelerators and brakes on life’s joy

what if something changed alone the way

maybe I am wrong in how I say what my heart felt today

what and if and maybe and how

slow down your mind and expression of wow

this moment that girl that place those memories

mirror, mirror what is wrong with me

nothing, the mirror truly replies

you seek the truth but you feed yourself lies

if and but

The Poet and the Pixie

it was nice to have a conversation with you

till I got bored and insecure at the same time too

So I unfriended you with whatever technology we could find

But there was no delete button in the crevasses of my mind

I wanted love or atleast the illusion of the concept

You wanted conversation and politics on the parapet

I wanted to be a bum in the cafe on the corner

But you got confused in being either a  memsahib or a foreigner

So we go each other our merry ways

But the nights are long and so short are these days

You have papers to write and rich uncles to dine

I have poems to quaff and sip my port wine

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The Village Game

I fall in love every other week

Parched in love I try and wet my beak

I am not so strong I am quite  weak

I was hunting for bacon I became myself the steak

I get up in the morning to drink my coconut water

I think up a poetry book to displace Harry Potter

I listen to Bob Dylan and marvel at his mind

I read Game of Thrones and a better series I have yet to find

In the noon I meet my artistic friends around the bend

I exchange banter and I drink the free tea they tend

I read my emails and a few I have to send

I learn from the world and a few nuggets of conversation I lend

Food is cheap from an Indian street

If your digestion can keep you on your feet

I say hello to my favorite painting in the store

I have seen it a thousand times but I always want more

All too soon I have to take a nap

I am middle aged and my mind is ready to snap

In the evening I awaken and if the sun is still there

I go to my fort of solitude and at the setting sun I stare

I drink my chamomile tea at a hundred bucks but ten percent off

I play Zombie Hunter on my android and the cold makes me cough

I find a funny thought and I remember to quietly laugh

I am neither young or old but half by half

I stare at the pretty people and wonder where my youth went

I am sure it was in a cafe writing poetry and it was elegantly spent

Till night calls I eat my pills and supper

Tuck myself carefully in bed lest I in the morning suffer

This was my day and you got the daily gist

My tasks of valor and my mundane lists

I am not sure I will ever succeed but in the end  I will be there

In any case the journey is prettier than the hows and whys and where

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