Monday, March 13, 2006

One-night stand

morning comes
she stands akimbo
spewing wrath
at the mere hint
of weakness

in all aplomb
yet in limbo
for her free path
is strewn with the lint
of amorousness

her heart's aflutter
it spies an angel
amidst blissful snores
morning breath
smelly farts et al

the love-laced clutter
of her mind is in danger
as her spirit soars
in a lustful spate
only to fall

a welcome quagmire
beckons and embraces
sucking her in
to notorious places

after all she thinks
freedom is lackluster
until it goads
fettered passion to fester

(c) VedicVerses




8 comments:

Marc said...

Excellent poem :)

Nyssa said...

Thanks Marco! :)

Anonymous said...

Is this inspired by a first-hand experience?

Nyssa said...
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Nyssa said...
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Nyssa said...

Isn't all art inspired by some kind of first-hand experience? When you come to think of it, whether you live it or hear of it in an involved way, its equally first-hand in the way you are affected by it, right?

Anonymous said...

No. If you hear of it, it is a second-hand experience.

Nyssa said...

ah! perhaps you are too scientific my friend... let me just say, if I wanted to elucidate, I would've... you need to know me a while before I would... thanks for taking the time to visit.