Monday, February 3, 2014

Theatres of Shame

I am drowned in the cauldron of unwholesome sounds
That explode my cortex and lobes.
Even my breath now is strangled with words
That hammer and blast without ounces of sense
In a circus of unlimited rites.

But I'm the lead actor who's hammed all his lines
And waits for an immediate exit, stage left.

Gazing with the honesty of well-practiced whores,
I who had vaunted my unorthodox claims,
Mime all my acts in theatres of shame
And stifle with sanctified hope.

Deafened and mute, I wait for my cues
And crash amid thunders of cymbals and bells.

1 comment:

sayan said...

ekta prufrock prufrock gondho pelam.:-)

and i wonder what could have initiated these feelings...these should be the rosy days of English spring..