Ashok Niyogi on the Other Side of the
Afternoon Dreams
Why do my demons lie?
Expectant voices through the afternoon
Pampering my vision,
Heart pulsating
Through cotton fabric,
Quivering breasts
Shy of virgin touch,
Liquid eyes
That look up at mine.
I thought I had my demons
Exorcised.
To hide behind wisdom,
When all I want
Is to smell her shampooed hair.
Those anklets sing the better song.
A strong current carries our boat along,
Little waves and the creak of planks,
The boatman sings his mandatory song.
Her palm in the water
Leaves bubbles in its wake,
Languid in the pent up heat,
Something is bound to crash,
Some one catch fire,
Some meticulously planned overture
Is bound to run away.
Treacherous, these bouts of afternoon sleep.
Now at night my sleeping pills
Will refuse to dream,
And I will pick at tufts of cotton wool,
While my demons cling to wall hangings,
And laugh their soulless laugh.
© Copyright Ashok Niyogi 2006