by Raju Peddada
(Swans - August 1, 2011)
The lush pinks sapped me,
many partners, kilos of baggage;
Overwhelmed senses couldn't see,
the malignant visage.
One purred: You're the best!
Another one moaned: More!
All their sophistic jest,
rendered me infinitely sore
Cloyed of their liquid guile,
I mused on desert maidens;
Untainted by fetid lifestyle,
never knew what I'd pay in.
Coveted the phantasm of lust,
borne of tribal dogmas;
Conveyed this bud, my fate's tryst,
a specious beauty, with ass.
Lured by this virginal specter,
embraced the desert bloom;
Led into our homely theater,
estranged all, this dame of doom.
Strangled by a pernicious beauty,
in obtuse ignorance;
Poisoned lives, what a pity,
in vicious remonstrances.
I shrug off the insidious reality,
continue my salacious gratification;
Inutile, with vacuous temerity,
spent, in the fog of fornication.
I till this dogma's manure,
for the plants of innocence to rise;
Rollicking offspring, a definite cure,
for my error, outsize.
Trickle to torrent, wealth dissolved,
under the spell of a Berber bore;
What future? Was I absolved?
I got what I had wished for.
Sahara sylph derails my ambition,
hard earned sanity, laid waste;
The era of privations begin,
in the fold, lost below her waist.
Happiness and peace forfeited,
lost vitality, on an exotic gate;
Parents languish, in space neglected,
boys dangle over canyons of hate.
Imprisoned in prodigality,
sought escape in pink again;
Battered pocket, in soul's pity,
yet, welcomed by pink again.
Full circle, I had come in,
to scrub away everything tribal;
Will I dream? Never again,
of any dogmatic cabal.
Kilos of baggage, I don't mind,
partners in row, I don't care;
On every pink's sublime hind,
I redeem myself, without spare.
Oh pink, forgive my error,
yearning, your dewy kindness;
By purging, this tribal horror,
to restore your luscious fondness.
With my ardent gust,
I sink into your pink fecundity;
Depositing seeds in trust,
a future, in beauty's profundity.
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About the Author
Raju Peddada is an industrial designer running an eponymous brand, purveyor of ultra luxury furnishings of his own design (see peddada.com). He is also a freelance correspondent/writer for several publications, specializing in commentary, essay, and opinions on architecture, design, photography, books, fashion, society, and culture. Peddada was born in Tallapudi, a small southern town in south India. He's lived in New Delhi and Bombay before migrating to the West Indies and eventually settling in Chicago, Illinois, where he worked in corporate America until he chose to set up his own designing firm. He lives with his family in Des Plaines. (back)