Thursday, 16. November 2006
Heart Is A Courtesan
Heart – that organ which bears a raft
Of meanings beyond its cargo
Of blood, bile, and hard cold facts–
Today sits in its rain-wet courtyard, Attired like a vain courtesan despite the arthritic feet, jowly jaws, Hair more white than black, Voice more croak than tuneful,
And foolishly hums snatches From ghazals (in Malhar no less!) As if it were performing again In the beloved’s chambers.
My Poems
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