Where I live now is near the very edge of Bristol.
A few hundred yards away, I imagine there is a dragon
Lying elegantly coiled in the castle overlooking the Avon gorge.
She comes into her own at night when she slithers out quietly
Onto the grand expanse of the Downs,
Now rid of the barbecues and summer lovers,
To look up at the moon suspended over Clifton Bridge,
She roars in hearty welcome.
Her tongue wagging happily, she laughs at the small velvety clouds
Playing hide and seek in the creamy darkness.
Below, the flaming torches light up the Portway
Where the odd truck passes by the hill-face desultorily-
Drivers struggling to keep awake,
Their massive vehicles wobble before jerkily steering straight
In the quarry beyond, a relentless drumbeat can be heard.
A rave going on or kids playing music
As they climb up to a precarious ridge to paint graffiti in impossible places.
She laughs in sheer joy at being here when everyone else is fast asleep.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Giggles in Xanadu
Into Xanadu came Kubla Khan,
So did Olivia Newton John,
Aparna’s nose quivered
As we settled down with the herd
"Another word for incense?"
Asked Ms De Souza.
Perfume, I said to please her
She shuddered and turned away
"Fragrance would’ve been so much better."
At 18, we were at Stella Maris College,
With all the decorum that we could manage
Any passion strictly suppressed, at the nuns’ behest.
A woman wailed for her demon lover
But we were deep in conversation
Not bothered about the maid or her dulcimer
Aparna's hair was cut like George Michael's
She'd channeled Wham and Careless Whisper
Or was it Imran Khan who made me swoon?
To cause all that consternation.
There in class, laughter bubbled
Mouths stretched wide with no elasticity.
Faces turned up to us in the top row,
We found we had become the show.
Sharing one quick giggle,
We finally came to grips
When we heard the shocking dictum
As if a guitar string had snapped mid-strum
“Put your fingers to your lips!!”
So did Olivia Newton John,
Aparna’s nose quivered
As we settled down with the herd
"Another word for incense?"
Asked Ms De Souza.
Perfume, I said to please her
She shuddered and turned away
"Fragrance would’ve been so much better."
At 18, we were at Stella Maris College,
With all the decorum that we could manage
Any passion strictly suppressed, at the nuns’ behest.
A woman wailed for her demon lover
But we were deep in conversation
Not bothered about the maid or her dulcimer
Aparna's hair was cut like George Michael's
She'd channeled Wham and Careless Whisper
Or was it Imran Khan who made me swoon?
To cause all that consternation.
There in class, laughter bubbled
Mouths stretched wide with no elasticity.
Faces turned up to us in the top row,
We found we had become the show.
Sharing one quick giggle,
We finally came to grips
When we heard the shocking dictum
As if a guitar string had snapped mid-strum
“Put your fingers to your lips!!”
Big English
I was Big English for a while
When I spoke in full sentences
In full English
But my popularity was at stake
Using Big English was a mistake
Only sometimes ya, I’d say
Chumma, just like that
I’m not that bad, man
Don’torry, Don’torry
Me? Big English?
Ayyo Kadavule only
Whom was I reassuring?
Cajoling, in that cloying way?
Finding excuses, feeling self-conscious
As if to say, yes I could speak English
But rather not have it on display.
When I spoke in full sentences
In full English
But my popularity was at stake
Using Big English was a mistake
Only sometimes ya, I’d say
Chumma, just like that
I’m not that bad, man
Don’torry, Don’torry
Me? Big English?
Ayyo Kadavule only
Whom was I reassuring?
Cajoling, in that cloying way?
Finding excuses, feeling self-conscious
As if to say, yes I could speak English
But rather not have it on display.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)