January 20, 2005

Do Not Stand Downwind of This Man

There is this guy you see -
suave as suave can be:

Oh the well-styled hair
- a ritzy $200 cut -
the dreamy eyes
- pools of Hershey chocolate fondue -
Oh how not to drool!

Whatta hunk!

                  Mr. Hunk, oh Mr. Hunk!
                  You make other men all seem like junk!
                  Won’t you walk a little slower
                  So I could get a little nearer?



So you quicken your pace
Wanting to touch base
With this gorgeous creature
With the delectable rear:

Oh the well-tailored shirt
- that fits a perfect V -
the elegant pants
- which hugs a perky ass -
Oh here’s the Holy Grail, the Quest!

Whatta hunk!

                  Mr. Hunk, oh Mr. Hunk!
                  You make other men all seem like junk!
                  We should have ourselves a little romance.
                  (And then I can get in your pants!)
                  Come on, slow down
                  You talk-of-the-town –
                  Let me catch up
                  And get a closeup
                  Of your gorgeous mug!
                  You’re the designer drug
                  My pharmacist refused to store
                  (She thinks it too hardcore)!



Within seven feet of him,
Your interest begins to dim –
And you’re unable to close the distance:
There is just too great a resistance …
But still you stubbornly push on,
Unwilling to give up this hunk you've chanced upon -

What's that funk?!

Oh the gentle breeze that wafts past
- the billion gazillion molecules -
the sudden, obnoxious whiff
- is that half a gallon of cologne? -
Oh it commands its own geographical zone!

                  Mr. Hunk, oh Mr. Hunk!
                  How many times did you have to dunk
                  Yourself in that marination?
                  (I ask this with great trepidation.)
                  You did not have stew yourself in it –
                  And if you do, please first get a permit!
                  A fragrance that overwhelms the senses
                  Very quickly queasiness induces.
                  So please be mindful of your fellow pedestrians,
                  And most importantly of their olfactory organs:
                  Spritz your cologne sparingly -
                  Do not use it so exceedingly!



Downwind of Mr. Hunk,
You realize he is Mr. Skunk.



1st Nov 2004 – 20th Jan 2005

January 16, 2005

And that is why ...

Oh what big eyes you have!

Why, thank you, sweetie –
it’s good of you to notice!
Come here,
I’ll give you a little hint
about doing your eye make-up:
mascara and liner –
you gotta have ’em;
don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.
And remember:
eye-shadow is a god-send.


Oh what big ears you have!

What? You can see my ears?
And to think I’ve spent the
entire morning doing my hair –
what are you gawking at?
Go on, go play outside;
I don’t want you disturbing me
while I re-do my hair.
Go on;
go play outside, girlie.


Oh what a big mouth you have!

Didn’t I tell you to go away,
you snotty-nosed brat?
What are you still doing here?
Don’t touch anything –
don’t you dare –
now look what you’ve done,
you little monster!
Go away from here,
get moving, now!
Get lost!


Oh what big teeth you have!

You horrible child, you –
go away! Leave me alone,
get lost, scram!
One more peep outta you,
I’m gonna chew off your head
and spit it ten paces away.
Now, beat it,
you monstrous brat,
or I’ll eat you up
and swallow you down whole!

… and stop screaming the
damn house down
!


4th Oct 2004
(major additions & edit 16th Jan 2005)

January 14, 2005

This night

walking home from the bus-stop,
something made me eschew the
brightly-lit shelter of the
void-decks of the blocks of flats
for the open darkness of the night.

Above me,
the sky was a dark blue suede
      (almost black)
on which tiny crystals twinkled,
      sparsely scattered,
and wispy fleece of dusky rose
      were caught.

In the distance
the lonesome yellow street-lamp
bowed in weariness,
but was cheered and caressed by
the dance of a playful breeze.

I’d looked up into infinity,
then to the lighted labyrinth;

standing in the engulfing darkness
and balmy night air,
I decided that I had made
the right choice.

January 11, 2005

What She Wants

I do not want to be the only one,
so call me what you want –
a bitch,
a witch -

especially a witch;

because I will be a witch,
because I will have you
completely bewitched;

you will think of me every day,
every hour, every minute,
every second, in every way;

you will not eat,
you will not drink,
you will not sleep;
you will not do anything else
but think of me;

and I will haunt your every moment,
waking or asleep -
I will torment you;

because I will tease you,
and I will please you,
if you get me -

but not yet
you won’t -
because I won’t allow it;

you will succumb
to my devilish wiles,
and you will ache every moment,
be it night or day;

I want you to suffer
from wanting me in every way;

I want you tortured,
I want you aggrieved;
I want you begging
on your knees;

I want you grateful,
overwhelmed and humble
when I have you;

and

I want you dead
if I don’t.


10th – 11th Jan 2005

January 06, 2005

6th January 2005

Tonight, as we sat on the swings –
grown up, but not adult,
by any means –
I looked up at the dark clear sky
and noticed two stars faintly twinkled
      above us –
one for you,
and one for me.

I made a wish upon my star
(for happiness and contentment)
and hoped you’d look up
and do the same;
but you didn’t.

It’s all right –
my wish was for the both of us,
and whatever I wish for now,
I’d wish it for you too.