The day that followed
The party is over and everyone finally went home.
The following day, the kitchen was complaining.
The party of fake smiles and feigned happiness
Smeared it with crumbs of bakeries and cookies
and gifted the garbage bin with heaps of leftovers
to be the uncelebrated birthday party decoration
or an everlasting garbage Christmas tree.
Both are the same,
Being shattered and spoiled is ever the case.
The party remnants hurried to meet their likes
when they are trashed.
They greeted the empty packs of nightgowns
That were sleeping side by side
Next to the empty blister packs of blue bills
Making true a story
that in reality could not be fulfilled.
With a look of self-pity
She remembered the accumulated heaps
Of trashed hopes and dreams.
Friends and mates were burdens
That stole her inner peace.
At her bed of boredom and rest,
She turned her back to whoever
Broke into her fake happy life
And served as a heavy barbed shackle
Troubling her thoughts and crippling her knuckles.
With a stifled yell of glee
She spitted out the psychological failures
And hailed a new morning
Announcing that her soul is finally free.
The Secret Oasis
The hidden secret oasis of rest
Glows with a mysterious light
That the unbounded shimmering emerald
Trees protect with an impenetrable siege
Which majestic appearance
Force the daring valiants to tremble.
Fluid and powerful moves of the braves
Could never unfold the secret
Of an oasis lies amid the dark
And selectively welcomes casual passers
Who stumble upon its riches.
Dreamers brimming with zeal
Crave reaching the crystal-clear springs
Where they would hear
The whispers of palms
Telling the tales of adventurers
Brimming with bravery and unwavering resolve.
Everyone covets becoming
A dweller of the secret oasis of sublimity.
The palms are used to watch them with eyes
Hold the ancient gleam.
Curious to behold them attempt to conquer
The barred paths to the secret oasis
That clear themselves deliberately to the chosen ones
Who are almost some fools
Pampered with favouritism.
The oasis intention is to lure
The bold adventurers to fall
In the pit of pride and greed
That they lose
The more they approach the secret oasis.
And before they discover that all their efforts
are in vain
Fate smashes the leftovers of their lives
Forsaking them as straitened corpses
Deprived of rest and every type of desire.
The massacre of free food
Poor trays loaded with colourful food
Which decoration waters the mouths of the gluttonous guests.
In a fierce attack the bellyful big bellies
Devour whatever is at hands reach,
Not out of hunger.
The seduction, they are unable to evade!
The luring bites and the wanton bulks of food
Are mermaids with fancy colours
That rhythmically dance
At the edge of minacious reefs
Within the coral oceans of the insatiate
Who valiantly dare to defy
The embarrassing threat of flatulence.
Come on, don’t you know?
This is the day of free food!
Bewildered, I watched the predators.
Nauseated with their terrifying attitude
The sight of the instantly emptied trays
Filled me with awe!
Suddenly,
They were, quickly, replaced with others
Whose far more ravishing colours and portions
Were another sacrifice introduced to the altar of voracious.
A repeated horrifying ceremony
That echoes the scene of the Hindu suttees
Who voluntarily embrace death
When proudly step into the furnace alive,
And silently stifle their fears and agonies.
Poor food, I can feel your pain!
It is doubled
When the insatiable bellies gulp massive quantities
That lose their taste when sadistically treated
Like cheap guzzled-down drinks.
Heartbroken, I have lost the joy of eating my meals;
The brutal devouring and grazing scenes
Forced rhythmic curls to my delicate guts.
The memory harbours a sentiment of scornfulness
That moves like a vicious virus
Catapulting my appetite with a chaotic mess.
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