Poem: Wanker in the sky

Outside the cocoon
Of this meandering train
(to Manchester)
It rains on sheep and fields

Slashing their souls,
on the window pane.
They slide on the glass,
a vertical dance
of droplets with tails.

I think then that they
look like sperm.
Wagging their ends
Swimming and vanishing.
The wanker up above
is, in fact,
responsible for the rain.

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12 Responses to Poem: Wanker in the sky

  1. Sri Harsha says:

    you just ruined the beautiful rain for me …


  2. sumana says:

    girl, what did you have in mind, eh?


  3. Kama says:

    yei! they’re coming in again, those poems of yours! (grin)


  4. Just when I was getting all senti about the rain yesterday…


  5. buddy says:

    i used to like the rain..sigh!


  6. Madras Chick says:

    Just about everyone notices rain drops slashing on windows.
    It takes a person like you to make such observations. Nice!


  7. rads says:

    No way! You think of them as those bio-specimens too?! :O

    I thought I was weird. :


  8. Gymnast says:

    The beginning was nice , yet the strange metaphor is repelling. To me.


  9. girish says:

    This is a lovely blog.
    Wanted to ask though (since I’ve seen it a couple of times in your posts) doesn’t ‘Manasu Kashtam’ translate into mental trouble/stress, rather than heartache ? Just asking.



  10. naren says:

    Extremely novel, the comparison, but inappropriate for the following reasons
    1. The viscosity does not match
    2. Neither does the color

    But if you think of it as being done solely for the doer’s pleasure, without any regard for the doee, why, it is very apt!


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