Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Poem: Mosquitoes in the Bathroom

I have dreams of writing books,
And there are mosquitoes in the bathroom.
I chase them; they're elusive.

There one goes--aim, swing, grab!
I open my hand:
Nothing. It has escaped.
Another attempt rejected.

I open the door, step out into Life,
Forgetting mosquitoes.

It is not easy, writing--
Good writing.
Will I succeed? Ever?

I step into the bathroom.
A dream sits on the wall. Grab!
Nothing.
Swing, slap, open--an empty hand.

My life depends on this. My concentration sharpens.
Grab! It escapes.
Turn, swing, catch--a wing.
Smack! A squashed mosquito is plastered on my palm.

I open the door, step out into Life,
Forgetting, for the present, mosquitoes, dreams.

Because now I know
I will write
Many books.
There are six dead mosquitoes on the bathroom floor.

I have dreams of writing books,
And there are mosquitoes in the bathroom.
I chase them; they're elusive.
But the bathroom is small.
-o-

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Whoa! That's a very interesting metaphor to use. Perfect ending!

ano

Hasmita said...

Thanks, Ano. Visions of a delirious writer! ;D

Kevin said...

And you told me you weren't much of a poet. Good job. =)

kpwriter

Hasmita said...

:) Thanks, Kevin!

Kamahl said...

I love that poem. I catch mossies in my bathroom in melbourne, australia. the easiest way is to stand quite still and get them in a clap as they come for you. Little buggers!

Hasmita said...

Thanks, kamahl :)

2+2=5 said...

oooh, nice poem!! mosqi's and dreams of becoming a gr8 writer. thats the indian dream i gues!!

Aman said...

Perfect ending."But the bathroom is small". :)

Anonymous said...

awesome bhabhi :)