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Bhakta Raj Giri

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Member Since: Aug, 2006

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Picnic
by Bhakta Raj Giri

Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Bhakta Raj Giri
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           >> View all 16

Picnic but starange...

Three tramps


at the roadway.


One with shabby beard


untended fully for months.


Other with a cloak


made of hearth rug


Next with a self-made blade


flaking the potatoes.


Fire lit in a can


with an opening complete


on the crown and


a small one at the side.


May be to bar the breeze .


I saw one of them


pushing brushwood,


into the fire lit can.


A burnt can on top of the can.


One puts a little oil and


the begged onions.


Another puts the potatoes


to let it fry.


Later, adds some water


creating a pool in the can.


Advanced pedestrians passed by


grinning, smiling, giggling.


Some how cooked rice


served on polythene plates.


When ready to gobble up


their eyes caught mine.


Changed into tomatoes.


Started muttering at me,


which I could not catch up.


I felt as a culprit,


prodding into their business.


I glided by


being a witness of

a strange picnic.

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Reviewed by Bhakta Giri 12/6/2006
Really Strange

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