Words can create magic and I want to get lost in them for some part of each day.

December 18, 2012

Bus Ride to Hell.

I am relieved :
It was not me -
Who took a ride to Hell
On a  curtained ,White Bus 

with red seats
and a Torture cabin
where lurked 
Beasts wearing 
masks of men .

Where the dirty ,misshapen hag 
of Evil Opportunity was making out
in the dark - with the malevolently grinning
frustrated, misogynist Male psyche
It was a Dark jungle -well lit
where the red lights eerily blinked
on the triptych of  Vishnu-Siva -Ganesh
and a shimmery ,pompooned banner said:
Jai mata di.

She stood near those Paper Gods
and watched her Body 

as it lay -
in a Gigantic spasm 
of Epileptic Grief
She heard the choking 
of muffled cries
as the Diseased
uncorked their Dementia.
Every helpless thrashing dimmed :
she saw a baby dear 
set upon by a pack of hungry Jackals.
She saw a
her body 
hanging on to life
as she died again and again.

I was relieved it was not me:
Between the headline masts-
But it could have been me or mine 
It could have been you or yours.
And the Ghost of the Unspeakable
is here to haunt us all
for a long -long time.