Frog Tales

Frogs on my roof
Make too much noise
They croak constantly and are never quiet
Anti feminist theories down their throats
Makes all their songs coarse

These frogs on my roof
Do not believe in monsoon
For them clouds never disappear
The world is a gigantic pot of beer

Google tells me
“Centuries have passed by
Many a Single mothers have tried
They are stuck upside down
Legend has it, they will never drown”

In their polished boots and red ties
Green goblins from sin city
Suave, grubby and witty
With endless fables to tell
Visit the frogs,
On their way to hell

Last winter, when they stopped by
They gifted silly frogs
A laptop each

Stuck upside down,
They made music
On their mighty machines
And sold them on internet
To insane goblin families

Bloggers, I was as amazed as you are
Goblin money, greener than a dollar
They started paying me rent
And asked me to put carpet on the roof

Once they even wrote a Rock song
Titled “Mr. Internet, slow sucker…..Mother FU#$@%”
In loop they had it played
Until I ordered an upgrade

Goblin money does good exchange
There is no recession in their Land
That red head (teller) is always eager to touch it
Before she puts them in her machine
She likes to have a quick whiff off them

“Nice shirt” she tells me
While her machine counts my money
I thank her with a smile
She slides towards me seductively and whispers
“I hear them frogs are working on a big budget goblin movie soundtrack”
She winks at me
“Do you get passes for the premier?”

Chicks dig Goblin Movies
More than they desire big men
Frogs are making me popular
But their music still drives me nuts

I increased their rent
And quit my job
They are my tenants and I am their manager
I answer their fan mail and get them coffee
They are busier than ever
I hate their music
But I hated my job too

Come winter
Goblins will visit again
Silly frogs want a concert in their honor
Cheerleaders will dance
Fireworks will be displayed
Expensive wine
And finest cuisines served
I am also getting my walls
Colored in green
Frogs have become very irrational
I believe it’s the work pressure
They tell me “for confidential reasons”
They want cheerleaders
To shave their heads

Many crazy demands
And even crazier songs
Their movie soundtrack is an international success

Revising: Late evenings and smudgy rooms

Do people know
They write histories
When they pick up their pen
Late evenings and smudgy rooms
And uncomfortable postures
One pain and an era to un-love

The wait for “The End”
A hall full of applause
Fame comes handy, godfathers and
Their bitches are loving it

Where do I sell
Myself, my story
My pen and buy my name
In the history…..
Late evenings and smudgy rooms
Seven year old paper
Becomes more dull
When I write with a stolen pen

I wake up at the sunset
And sunrise takes me to bed
How much I sleep is not important,
Or let’s leave that for another poem

Living on the other side of the world
Dramatic but just another impact
Of the chips getting smaller