Poem of the Day
Yellow Striped Pajamas
By Shamsher Bahadur Singh
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
All 74 billion people who once
inhabited the Earth, are invited
to a party. The invitations state
By far the most efficient method of ingesting food is by taking it in through the mouth, chewing, and then swallowing to propel it on its route to the stomach,” a noted medical researcher revealed today. “We spent a good deal of time on this problem,” said the expert who spent the major part of the last five years pursuing it.
I am not at the crest of the world.
The moment
is not the stylite’s pillar,
1
There is an uncertain territory
between night and day.
It is neither light nor shadow:
persistent, flowing through fallen shadows,
excavating tunnels, drilling silences,
insisting, running under my pillow,
The tide covers, discovers, recovers, and always walks in the nude.
The tide weaves and unweaves, embraces and separates, is never the same and never another.
The tide, sculptor of forms that last as long as their surge.
Temples look like discarded alphabets.
We loved lying in their shadows lazily
deciphering and resting and laying bets
All my girlfriends were talking about sex
and the vibrators they ordered from “Eve’s
Garden” which came with genital portraits
It doesn’t speak and it isn’t schooled,
like a small foetal animal with wettened fur.
It is the blind instinct for life unruled,
Sweat lingering in broadcloth over soap,
the first man’s smell I smelled belonged to you.
Couldn’t look at myself. I trust you saw my taupe