50 - 50 : A POLL SATIRE

Inside machine's pouches
Level'd are both parties.
The scores now fifty each
Rais'd on the polling pitch.
Exit poll's deft study
Has held each win-ready.
Full votes count one zero one,
One will win if fifty one.

Now comes defining hero
After one zero zero,
Holding a flag-less mast
Very last vote to cast -
A one-zero-one years chap
Haggard, unkempt, deathly crap.
With two five-hundred notes,
Hero is now light of hopes.

Come both party men rushing,
Each lifts him by either wing.
Him they tug manic to bag
Like Kashmir by India and Pak,
Each with promises for moon
Even marriage and honeymoon.

Much like the lord of the ring,
Like all-powerful Mughal king,
The last-but-not-least man
Sinks to booth with elan.
With one stray look smart and canny
Presses button not seeing any...

A gaping silence gulps the noise
Under the gaze of the blinded eyes
As the terminator walks out witty :
Villain for fifty, victor for fifty.

-- N P Samal

Comments

TELL ME NOT

Tell Me Not Tell me not I was once a lad; An open sky that I once had, That offered me untold delight And lit my spirit day and night. Remind me not the days and nights That told me tales and flew my kites; Many a game that I did play With heart and soul unleashed and gay. Jog not my memory I once sailed Alone for miles and there beheld On either side, along the inlet, Many a willow and flowery thicket. Bring me not back the rights all lost, All things that came by free of cost; Affection, love, all poured on me, Even when I was wilful, naughty. I'm in my time, leave me to suffer From weakness, bloating, bugs, whatever: Let me be in my dying yard; But tell not I was once a lad. ©️ N P Samal

KISS ME, PLEASE!

Woo-hoo...! Kisss you...u...u...u...??? Oh, I'm being frenzical !!! My slavering tongue is jerking fast And my quivering lips are pouting out With booms of kisses in the air -- Ummah...! Ummah...! Ummah...! Just yesterday, an okay got my promise. Today is the chance no way to miss. And ready is my basket with pecks, Lip-locks, French kisses, and other varieties... I'm also ready for the lizard kiss, And the kiss of the Spider man... And I'm sure I won't beg like Big B -- (Juma, chumma de de chumma...), This is my right to kiss I earn'd this week. I shall kiss like one Dhoom 2's Hritthik-Aash's, Although I envy Emraan's 'Murderous' thriller kiss... I'm ready with my balmy lips, Strawberry flavour'd, To be the biggest smoocher Of do hazaar chhabees... And I have hidden the cracks On my wintry lips To save from rashes My Valentine's softy cheeks... Well with flushed up teeth, With cleaned up tongue, With exotic ...

THE RETURN : RHYME 100

The Return Rhyme 100 Infants gambol about their home With blooms and toys, But they return to mom's bosom For the real joys. Children frolic about the streams, In meads and hedges, But to their home they return for Their real flowerage. Youths do rush about crazy for World's whole treasure, But they return for real living To own life and career. Adults get sunk into the labour With dedication, But this's the return to raise well Their own children. The old trudge about the yard Of their nursing shed, But lastly they return for rest To their death bed. ©️ N P Samal

My Poems

Search This Blog