Playing the been,
Wooden been music
And the snakes,
Snakes
Venomous snakes
Dancing,
Dancing
To the tune of,
Melodies breaking,
Breaking
And engulfing
The area.
And the cobras,
Cobras
Hooded and hissing
Standing,
Standing and swaying,
Swaying to the tune of,
Tune of the been music
Melodious and haunting,
The cobras,
Whitish, Blackish and greyish
Venomous and fatal.
Stringing,Stringing the guitarAnd singing the song of life,The love lyrics of love and modernity,Catching the vibes of American life and culture,Pop, rock and blues, country, folk and chapel?O Bob,Bob DylanThe guitarist?
Oh, she is not!IIA house withAnd without a woman,Think you.IIIWhat is she saying,Have you marked it,What does it her face?IVI am like you,Today am here,Next time will be there.VBefore calling myself talented,I would like to see,How does it get wastedIf the opportunities are not!VILearn from the flowers to smile,Keep smiling evenIn the sorrows of life.VIIHow…
My love.From the veil, you just guessed me, who could he beAnd smiled you unknowingly,Waved the hand hidingly for me,Only for me, my love.Just like a negative of the photo reel, saw I you,Just like a negative of a photographCaptured in the camera of my heart,The film of the mind and its memory card.
Or the secluded placesTell ofA difficult timeGone by,The horror and terrorOf the T.B. patientsSuffering fromWith no hope for livingAnd the British doctors and nursesTaking care of,ServingWhere the people used toFear to go,Even the relativesOf the patientsPresuming a supposed to beContact withAnd the houses dilapidatedAnd fallingLying under the treesStill tell ofThe age gone by,The influx of…
Nothing came I with and nothing shall I go withAnd nothing there in my life.
Neelanjana.For youSing IFor youDream I.YouMy song,My dream,Neelanjana.
