are we simply flesh and blood?
Epithelium, fascia, muscle? A meshwork
of road maps and railway stations
for discoid corpuscles?

but to what import is probably not
a matter of importance.

outside, the cat purrs
starving.
her preference for milk-fish a far-fetched
notion amidst recession.

nearby
fire ants contrive with termites
of what better way to soften the foundation.

amidst uncertain darkness
we are still worth dying for
and the yellow lady sleeps
for yellow ribbons to live on

at the approach of dawn
A cauldron lid falls,
the agitated cymbals of a call
for whoever it tolls.

irene chicqui
6:27am aug032009

Human beings are just like a book,
It’s easy to judge them by just a look,
No need to read them from page to page,
They may not be even of your age.

Friendship is never kept in a cage,
Allow it to fly just in its own rage,
See the friendship as it soars in sky,
It’s friendship for which your heart would like to die.

When you had come you had come all alone,
Your parents and siblings had come along,
But friendship is only what you have yourself made,
Never allow a good friendship to fade.

Shrini Deewana