OH HARK 36
Suddenly before his eyes swam weird shapes
And more men wearing hoods and long capes
But one wore a hat , with a feather which was red
It was a sombrero, he saw , eyes fixed on his head.
The guitar started groaning like a badgered soul.
His throat was dry hands clammy, things droll
He went down on knees among the tangled vines.
Of a song remembering some forgotten lines.
A half -crazed smile flitted across his blistered lips
The man still continued to stand hands on hips
The ground around him seemed to be spinning.
The beefy man, hand on mouth continued grinning
He suddenly laughed so loudly that he had a coughing spell
"When the cat is away , the mice play",there was a yell
"Madam is up, stop laughing, you bloke" he bellowed.
In stark horror , he ran a tongue over his teeth yellowed
Towards them walked madam with her Neanderthal walk
With her power packed strides the earth seemed to rock.
Frantically she knitted as she walked, on her face a frown.
She back handed the grinner viciously knocking him down.
The knitter was now a hitter and also a teeth gritter
In the mouths of the trio this left a taste bitter.
Then from under her clothes , she pulled out a gun
Was she about to unleash an orgy of violence wanton?
This was followed by a scuffle between the two
From one tree to another a horror struck bat flew
Suddenly the gun went off smothering the cough.
In utter fear, the dimwit shook and forgot to laugh.
The shot had caught the knitter bang on the face
Gore -splattered ,of her original face leaving no trace
She gaped and then let out a blood curdling scream
Howling and screeching as though in a horrifying dream
Her face was badly bruised, purplish and raw
Her bloated mouth opened half an inch and she saw
The threesome trying to run away on legs unsteady
She threw away the knitting needles, and got ready.
Towards them she hobbled with her grotesque face.
Pouncing at the poet when he tried to tie his lace
"Tyin too tun tway, ?" The threat terribly tangled
Into the poet's ears fell , while the minions wrangled.
And more men wearing hoods and long capes
But one wore a hat , with a feather which was red
It was a sombrero, he saw , eyes fixed on his head.
The guitar started groaning like a badgered soul.
His throat was dry hands clammy, things droll
He went down on knees among the tangled vines.
Of a song remembering some forgotten lines.
A half -crazed smile flitted across his blistered lips
The man still continued to stand hands on hips
The ground around him seemed to be spinning.
The beefy man, hand on mouth continued grinning
He suddenly laughed so loudly that he had a coughing spell
"When the cat is away , the mice play",there was a yell
"Madam is up, stop laughing, you bloke" he bellowed.
In stark horror , he ran a tongue over his teeth yellowed
Towards them walked madam with her Neanderthal walk
With her power packed strides the earth seemed to rock.
Frantically she knitted as she walked, on her face a frown.
She back handed the grinner viciously knocking him down.
The knitter was now a hitter and also a teeth gritter
In the mouths of the trio this left a taste bitter.
Then from under her clothes , she pulled out a gun
Was she about to unleash an orgy of violence wanton?
This was followed by a scuffle between the two
From one tree to another a horror struck bat flew
Suddenly the gun went off smothering the cough.
In utter fear, the dimwit shook and forgot to laugh.
The shot had caught the knitter bang on the face
Gore -splattered ,of her original face leaving no trace
She gaped and then let out a blood curdling scream
Howling and screeching as though in a horrifying dream
Her face was badly bruised, purplish and raw
Her bloated mouth opened half an inch and she saw
The threesome trying to run away on legs unsteady
She threw away the knitting needles, and got ready.
Towards them she hobbled with her grotesque face.
Pouncing at the poet when he tried to tie his lace
"Tyin too tun tway, ?" The threat terribly tangled
Into the poet's ears fell , while the minions wrangled.
Oh, no... You caught me completely offguard blasting off the face of the poor knitter...That awful image will stick with me all day... :( All of these weaving twists and turns that come out of the blue... I love the rhythm that carries the action forward, almost serving as a character of its own. What in the world will happen next?
ReplyDeleteI agree with Lisa, anything could happen next, learning from the surprises so far, (not to mention shocks)! I could criticize the word "grotesque" being used twice within six lines, but this is immediately forgivable as repetition is the last thing I've come to expect from this series! Thanks, Santosh!
ReplyDeleteWhat surprise the story turs gruesome with a gun, But luckily no one dies - the effect is worse iving with a shot-up face for a lady no matter how old Shocking Santosh nd it rhymes WOW
ReplyDelete