Friday, September 15, 2006

On a day like today.

Wake up in the morning, feeling so sticky,
Grin into the mirror, at my teeth so yucky,
Try to mend my hair, ever so mucky,
The water supply is cut off, oh how lucky.

This is the kind of day I hate,
Makes me want to defecate.
The situation is very delicate,
Someone is already in there, oh what a fate.

Don’t ask me what happened in there,
But I come out as hungry as a bear.
Open the fridge, smile at the solitary pear,
Alas it is rotten, my tummy quakes in fear.

Seething, I turn to where my clothes are hung,
No time to iron, they look so worn and wrung.
I step into my shoes, covered all over in dung,
It can’t get messier, looks like the fat lady has sung.

Against time I have to race,
Sweat pouring down my sticky face,
I win, but of the bus there is no trace.
It comes ten minutes late, there I rest my case.

I sit in the bus feeling humid at hot,
Try to open the window but budge it will not.
My latest crush giggles at my grotesque double knot,
Dear Mr. Murphy, in hell may you rot.

Enter office feeling blue, black and yellow,
Just in time to hear the boss bellow,
“Come here, you lazy, incompetent fellow”.
Feels like someone just hit me down below.

Expletives ringing in my ear I go to lunch,
Buy myself a burger and bananas by the bunch,
Open the burger to look inside on a hunch.
Copulating worms are using the cutlet as a park bench.

I leave the happy couples to make merry,
Have a couple of bananas and try to finish work in a hurry.
I can’t concentrate; with hunger my eyes go blurry,
The guy next to me burps after having rice and curry.

For the day to end I cannot wait,
It’s like hoping for a storm to abate.
As the clock strikes five I rush out the gate,
Just to slip on a peel I threw after I ate.

Clamber into the bus fearing the worst,
There sits my crush, alone, in deep thought.
Of this opportunity I try to make the most,
Try talking to her but she asks me to get lost.

I enter the house thirsting for a drink,
Open the tap and mud oozes into the sink.
My roommate tells me that I stink,
I show him a finger and tell him what I think.

I lie in bed humming my favorite song,
Am stopped in mid-verse by a clock gong,
Thirteen times the clock goes on and on.
Thus ends a day that went so horribly wrong.

6 comments:

Lucky said...

lol!must say ur getting better at this.As disgusting as it is,loved the poem.
tempted to add a few lines in there myself.he he.

sumod_talking said...

@lucky

danke danke :)

go ahead add the lines... would love to see them...

Anonymous said...

Thirteen times eh ? how cum ?

sumod_talking said...

@anonymous

that's exactly what i meant when i said everything went wrong... even the clock stuck 13 :D

Sameera said...

lol sumod

nice one here..some of it gross jus like how a guy only can do it :p

but awesome rhyme structure man..

and u seem to be in this mode perenially of complaning :)

good for us

and super cool tag cloud on the right
i might just steal the idea from u so thanks in advance

sumod_talking said...

@sameera

some of it gross jus like how a guy only can do it

do i see the making of an FCP???
lol kidding :)

no no no i am not a cry baby who goes cribitty cribitty crib all the time, i do stop to think for at least 5 mins a day :D

hey be a wee bit cautious while u are making the tag cloud... it didn't quite come out the way i wanted it :)