by
Raajeev Auchambit
Leave my pen, man,
again, I must write
as my inner dripping pan
craves more than just sunlight.
Alright, alright, I confess, I’m not wielding a pen,
but indeed writing, I’m writing, my friend,
before life’s red light
dims me in twilight’s gentle half-light.
Don’t just bite at these words,
soar with them, like unsung birds
flying in a world unseen,
mending life with my favourite phrase, ‘Why not,’ so keen
In this gaga realm
my pen does a sega, it seems,
wearing a whimsical daydream
even on the no-parking streets of my scheme
Why not write, when in your mind, you’re all right,
Why not write, when you can sling words with another might,
Why not write, even as a beginner?
Why not? When your quirky musing gets wings.
An English teacher by day and a poet in secret moments, I seek my mundane self through the extraordinary words of all.
Poetic Delicacies from Mauritius 