Riddle Of A Hue Poem by Munia Khan
Riddle Of A Hue
I am a crow lover
In the night I hover
Sometimes ‘Jet'- my first name
I'm a hue of fame
The colour of the dark
Into her eyes I spark
The day I swallow
I am the hollow
I am the deep
I'm a creepy creep
I'm the owl's heaven
I rest on a raven
I can fall
I can crawl
Into the old woman's lap
I love to take a nap
embracing her cat's skin
I'm the thick; I'm the thin
I'm a hater of ‘green'
I'm a colourless screen
I'm the canvas of stars
I'm the curer of scars
I'm precious on ‘rose'
I sniff with coloured nose
I feed on Asian Hair
I'm the electricity's scare! !
I lick the Mercedes-Benz
Loved by Ladies and Gents
I worship the mean
I kiss the ‘Gothic Teen'
On her lips and eyes
And when a liar lies
I flee with the flies
I'm a hue; I'm a hue
Of the hat of a jew
I live in a funeral suit
I shine on the boot
I engulf the light
As the dead becomes white
The sun I fight
You hold me tight
When life has gone
Dusk dims the dawn
Whenever nights you lack
You just call me- BLACK!
Written: 28th January,2012.
© 2012 Munia Khan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/24/2024 1:18:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I remember my mind was eating this up with the adventurous anticipation from your clever insight and succinct analogies. Hyperbole never looked so good in Black. My loss is that the joy of reading your poetic profundities is not exclusive to me, alone, but shared like a fine bottle of wine with all whomever comes to drink in the experience that is your poetic genius.