Treasure Island

Hardik Vaidya

(26 Dec 1969, I won't be dead till you know I am alive. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

A tale to tell


I have a tale to tell.
It is real but names I cannot spell.
Because men are born brothers, and we don't kiss and yell.
My buddy was a Muslim, he was a Casanova,
He had it in him to woo women like Sean Connery in early drama.
He laid her eyes on her,
She melted like vanilla,
They made love on the tripods of Worli,
She took him in her mouth, and swallowed his Qoran.
Then things went further, she chose not to bother,
She said I am not a Muslim, therefore your bed I cannot grace,
He once and just once shared, even though I were Hindu,
Because Brothers are not born of a wedlock of some stupid Sindhus,
He lamented what was so different in my Qoran then and now,
That after swallowing my life, she finds it biblically unright?

Submitted: Sunday, February 17, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

improve

Comments about this poem (A tale to tell by Hardik Vaidya )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..
[Hata Bildir]