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June 05, 2023


By Sayani Mukherjee


Sugar palm hands
Of a bohemian soul
Need jagged patting
To keep a straight face.
A mahogany beach and oomph
Of nothingness
Squabbles hard over
Empty nothings.

What do i seek now
Do i think in music?
As happens within
An earthen pot
The pure sunken smell
Jellyfishes, coconuts
A slippery witch
And two quarters of
A ghetto revolution?
Fathomless and
A slow moving sensational pitch
As happened in jazz blues
The stringing soulful siren
A collective unison
For peace and justice
Human endeavours on earth like tree.
Over two three degrees
And office clad suits
Cats and dogs game
A material show buzz
Of a pitching ballad.

Article © Sayani Mukherjee. All rights reserved.
Published on 2022-10-24
Image(s) are public domain.
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