Music is an envelope
wrapping paper
blue and grey
strawberry flavour.
Its my aeroplane
my time machine
my middle name
my sunscreen.
My psycho-somatic disorder
it's my dark outline and border.
Music in the zig of the zip
Music in the tick of the click
Music in the hum of the slum
Music in the ooo of the blue
Music in the dish of the fish
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I like this poem. And thanks for visiting my blog! I'll be back. :-)
ReplyDeleteNice work over the last few posts... :)
ReplyDeleteHey hunny bunny... you seem to have profound skills in literature, and this is evident in your poems and illustrations. I can flatter you with my mathematical skills. If you are a function... I wanna be your derivative... so that I could be tangent to your curves.
ReplyDeleteI know I have flattered you enough and now you must do your part. Link me, and I shall link you.
Rumor has it correct. I am the sexiest Indian man alive. You may resort to Gangu's Adventures to confirm this.
Here are some links that I believe will be interested
ReplyDeleteHere are some links that I believe will be interested
ReplyDelete