Sunday, August 14, 2011

Cut Off

' As flies to wanton boys, so are we to the gods,
they kill us for their sport.'
- Shakespeare, King Lear

I often lost his voice on the phone-
Bad network

How would you even know
if I die, he used to jest.
I'd reply with silence,
it silenced him for the moment.

We hanker to buy with
bleeding bits of the heart,
The cologne of love:
Sometimes so costly
it leaves you with no heart at all.
Just a pulsating void
like the bleeding silence
at his end when I said
"I love you";
And then, (finally),
"I love you too, three, four, five..."

He loved his bike.
Faster, faster, Death cheered him on;
School kids race in the rain,
Splashing mud on me.

As the boat gently bobbed
away from the shore,
Little did I know
it had no oars.

They laid him to sleep
and threw earth over his dreams,
My cat gave birth to three
kittens that day.

Dust to dust returneth;
I to him.

Beep beep beep.
Switched off
Cannot be reached
Out of coverage area
Does not exist.