Song of Pages & a Coffer

come my dear friend, sit beside me.

no it is not another poem am going to read to you

no it is not another poem of mine am going to ask you read


hush…listen to the blank of this night…to-night

last train had left the junction…

the plastic, paper scrapes flying in the air…

the banyan tree leaves rubbing each other

creating the melodious psithurism with other trees…and nocturnal noises…


hush…listen, now, the serene calm tone of pages

that am tearing from my diary…my manuscript…

no one read them is a lie…few read them…

few…promised reader fail the promise…

all are busy not I ’cause am just a poet…

just a friend…knocking…screaming…read…

read my poem…please…read…read…

but this should stop…all…all are trash


you want to leave…you are angry at me…

am not going to hold back…you

you shall better leave…if she…if you…want to read my poems

search the coffer…that I’ll take with me…

don’t burn me…bury me…with the manuscripts…with the diaries…

                              –xx–


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