Back again

This has got to be the most under utilised blog in the world. What to do? If I had a freaking internet connection at home it may be different. Let's get started today with this recent poem.. 

Untitled - 30/9/05

Late is the hour of this reckoning,

Night - we sang of the muse that cheers,

To forget, briefly, the dreams we had of tomorrow 

Just for the night. 

We sang accappella, 

A song of my distant past, 

Me trying to untie the knot that is my heart, 

Them to ode the muse of their dreams. 

Morning comes to some surprise, 

The tamil beats and raucous rhythm 

Of the tabla and drum 

Mixed with the feng-tau chinese american reject 

That made me laugh at their unoriginality. 

I crawled home - passing uniformed cars, 

That neither inspired nor wound me, 

The foul whisky-tea will last till morning 

Like the knot; 

It's tighter than I thought.