Friday, April 6, 2012

A city of Sheep

little world I make of
some trail of dreams
from the closet they
peep into future
and then lie flat

brewing senseless cacophonies
eating my head today
my saviour can only
have this daylight to sway
I see circles forming
in the eyes of hay
my watch shows me to bed
but beating drums in heart
refuse to give way
so the thousand miles
of this ear piercing silence
could go away

on this mountain, conundrum
as I dangle on my own footprints
I realize this life
is a slow killer
with nothing to do better
just inches of heel
to rub your face
in mud forever

oh you tiny folks
in this shallow city of hopes
where reflections in water
spit on your face
climbing social ladder
how many heads away
every tongue tied
in twisted bemused parodies
here gender doesn’t matter
its story of successful machines


  1. I like your post, Bhanu.
    "here gender doesn’t matter
    its story of successful machines"

    Yep, yep, yep!!