To forget those days of dilemma and injustice,


to forget those days of excruciating pain,
to transform these cruel experiences into print
to greet yourself into the rose garden of flowers
and to imbibe the aura of peace and cheer to the
anguished soul and body, I log on to my computer,
to my personal computer, my friend in distress,
a prurient philosopher, a right palm to donate,
freely and immeasurably and even unasked,
I log on confidently, careless, due to custom,
my friend opens his window of warmth,
slow and steady, teasing my patience,
like the wavy curtains raised up for
the theatrical show for the audience eager,
My fingers are typing fast amidst
Sprouting spasms and pop-ups,
which dominate like the flies on neon lamps?
thoughts spontaneous overflow not only,
pent-up emotions, springing from acute
observations, getting converted from
Pigeon-holes to printed versions,
Suddenly stickiness, a slow movement
creeps on the key-board: I recline on my chair,
I resume a poetry website with a screen
embellishing cherry tree and a playing
child underneath enlivening me.
m fast fingers continue type to
Contribute to the site.