• Life
  • ,
  • Fear
  • ,
  • Faith


    That moment
    When you are driven
    through an unfamiliar road
    as narrow as the road
    to a virgins heaven
    with high greens
    before, beside and behind you
    - as thick as a never-shaved
    black adult's mons pubis.
    Your heart leaps up your throat
    every time the vehicle
    Leaps up a high on the road
    and your lips jam each other
    Repeatedly in an awkward fashion
    As they move to mutter a mantra
    And your lips slap each other
    In no particular sequence
    As they recite Psalm 91.

    That moment
    When you march like a lone soldier
    In unfamiliar enemy territory
    Towards your crush of eons
    With the silent cheer
    Of boys your age
    Most of whom
    Never gathered the guts
    To ask a girl on a date.
    The words you earlier mastered
    Take to their heels in turn
    As you get closer
    And your lips rub gently
    Trying hard to hide themselves
    As they move to mutter a mantra
    And your lips press against each other
    Hoping not to be seen by her
    As they recall the songs of Solomon.

    That moment
    When you scamper to the notice board
    Like a church mouse
    Headed for communion crumbs
    Two weeks after you wrote
    Your fate into the hands of Prof X
    Who was the same examiner
    By whose sword you were slain
    - Had he been more generous
    You needn't have repeated the exam.
    You entertain the worst thoughts
    Another failure is synonymous
    With getting kicked out of college
    But still your lips run rash
    At the speed of the produced sounds
    As they move to mutter a mantra
    But still your lips halt not
    Yet the result wouldn't alter
    As they repeat Jeremiah 29 : 11.

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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