Bashing up The New Year

Hands they did not Grope -
Her, in pairs of Seventy.
Eyes they did feast on
In crores of plenty.
You wanted it and hence
You kept mum;
What thought you had,
That her dignity saved
By mere blurring of the bum?

Maniacs all around,
Fear unbound,
Triumpant she came, though
With hurt and pain.
Inconsiderate, you "Flashed"
Untouched, but she wailed,
When her hymen you tore,
In the news, again and again.

Beyond the fort of her palms,
Not a nail could pass, when
All there was,
A thin hair's gap,
And Only Barbarians neared.
But for you the fort was gone,
Your tongue was rolling,
Her assets squealing,
All day, unstopped, untired.

All you could do,
In the beam was to catch fourteen.
Where are the thousands,
That were left in the hiding?
Chuck your pen,
Pick the Sword mightier,
On the judgement day, you
Might hang till death.
But Today, chop those hands,
Dig those eyes and
Bring their shovelled balls;
My museum wants to fill,
In the list of "Species Extinct".

Dear Dimple

*An attempt at translating one of my tamil poems

In the valley of your dimple,
I live in a small hut of my own;
Smile not Senorita,
The earth below me shakes.

"My face forgotten Fidel? I don't have a dimple."

Refuse not, my Egyptian beauty,
I am an Archealogist.
To the mystery of pyramids,
My Senses surrender,
And you are no less a wonder.

"You love the fairskinned, I am jet black".

No doubt, my Black pearl -
The Shameless sun! he shines,
From your fairness stolen.
Fearing my wrath, in the darkness of night,
He lies hidden.

"Lies, All Lies".

What a suprise!
That I don't hear my death knell,
When your lips spell, Liar,
Let a strand of your frock be my noose
And I shall hang myself here.

"Enough Fidel, Let me sleep".

Sleep well my darling,
But hear the ailing heart;
For you lie on the left
Its beats are sobs,
Your name a part and my name a part.

"True Fidel, when you know, why this show?"

In the dust of time,
Buried are my imprints dear.
The pages of this poem
Are to wipe the dust and
Revive your memories clear.