A Noisy Parade

In a total isolation, I restart

Letting my selfish longing out.

Being like an old chaperone,

Keeping an eye on a blonde

Swimming with her in a luxury bed

That I have never seen.

I think I hear myself saying:

“That is not what I meant at all

That is not it, at all”

A golden pillow under my arm

Tempts me to go further and further.

Cheekily, the blonde stretches her hands around

But that is not what I meant at all,

That is not it at all.



I keep on swimming

'till a dearest company devastates the whole scene.

Sitting on my cold shoulder, he orders me

To feel the earth beneath my feet.

All around, shocking pictures of the past-present

And charred walls setting me apart

Near a cockroaches’parade.

I try to relive it,

But the parade’s noise is so loud

That I can’t hear myself think.



The long, slow, routine and gloomy day

Creeping forth once again.

I ‘m crying my eyes out.

Yes! I’m at times, almost a cult,

Almost, at times, the Fool

Who banks his dreams

On eagle’s wings that never land?