Storage Tower

 

      

My abode is sanitized every a.m.

Scarred mound of rot and rotten

Swept and brushed to the yellow truck

Lazing as a cat in the Sun

Sauna bath I get in the yard

 

Dull and bland I am in my vacant self

I set my eyes to be chock-full

To welcome peels, shells and seeds

Smash and shatter of beer bottles

Squeaking corks, cans and containers

 

By noon, I am half full

Leftovers, rags and crumpled pages

Twigs and withered browns and faded reds

 Delights of yesterday on walls and peg tables

Abandoned adorns house in me today

 

Spoken as stinking and malodorous

Kicked to test filthy fullness

Oldies and young retort like

I am a trampoline park to my cronies

Cawing crows, purring cats and kept dog

Filth for men, midday meal for buddies

 

Black hole of Calcutta in the midst of night

Spiteful spits carry the cram at sunrise.

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Bus Ride

​ Sometimes the smallest encounters leave an imprint that stays for longer than you would expect. A moment becomes a memory, amalgamated from both sweet and bitter experiences. I love the prairie summers, and getting home on the bus is my favorite part of the day. Sometime in July, 2024, I was all set to enjoy my bus ride. As usual, I preferred taking the seat close to the exit door. Holding my phone in my hand, I became engrossed in scrolling and was so lost in it that I didn’t realise what was going on around me. In the blink of an eye, I felt someone had pulled mobile phone from my hand. My instinctive reaction was the same as it had been when I was a child. Like a five-year-old, I cried out, “Mummy, mummy, please help me!” Interestingly, none of the passengers reacted. That left me with many questions, as well as regrets about how absorbed I had been in my mobile phone. I believed that my phone contacts, pictures, wallet, messages, notes and much more were gone, forever. My body wa...
Read more

Like a song that lingers in the mind

​ Like a song that lingers in the mind, And we sing unaware of why we sing. Somedays people, other days events, Repeat in my mind. Today, I was under the spell of the word, nitpicking- not that I was enriching my vocabulary, But thinking of what memories it brought, Bittersweet or sweeter bitter. And I close the day telling myself, Whatever! I don’t care more.         Shehnaz Gujral         February 24,2026
Read more

Phenomenal Women

She conquers her fears, She tames her tears. She waters the seeds, Still many question her deeds. She is here to survive. Probing eyes will now deprive. Celebrate her not only today. She is the phenomenal women every day.
Read more