Poem: A Sleeping Octopus

Sleeping (Framed)

At night, their bodies converge. In total –
eight limbs. Somewhat like an Octopus.
At times, she flings her fat leg on him.
Or her hair enters his nose. He sneezes.

His hand finds itself on her stomach.
Sometimes the eyes open, like
cowries. Yes, she is right here. This
Octopus, of two heads and two noses,
is strangely enough, married to itself.

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7 Responses to Poem: A Sleeping Octopus

  1. Rylan says:

    An extremely interesting concept. And very cutely executed. The accompanying image really sealed the effect though.


  2. Banno says:

    Lovely poem.


  3. Nilu says:



  4. phoenix says:

    Nice poem, and such a happy with itself octopus that is!!


  5. Grasshopper says:

    I love the words, ‘married to itself’. Sometimes, marriage feels like that, doesn’t it, like there are hardly any dynamics left, because you are so one with each other.


  6. dipali says:

    Lovely. I’d been missing your poetry, Neha.


  7. Rylan: Thanks. Sri is of the opinion that I invaded the couple’s privacy. But they were sleeping in the Tate Modern. How could I resist!

    Banno: Thanks.

    Nilu: Manapaadam panni, tirippi tirippi sollu – maybe then.

    phoenix: Calm octopus I thought. Even the most aggressive of couples look deliriously calm when sleeping.

    Grasshopper: Yes, it’s all very self-referential. You become a unit, no matter how much you resist the idea.

    dipali: Thanks.. and just for you, I might cook up some poems..


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