August 10, 2009

a perfect cube

a perfect cube
white noise
my gift to you

bare white walls
infinite
try not to breathe
try not to sweat
try not to kick and squeal

and i thus leave all my attire
this century old city and its desires

a perfect cube
under white light
silent noise
no air no smell..no curled up sleep

and what did i leave?

such questions shud not arise

2 comments:

extremity said...

are gifts supposed to be such entanglements ?

SANDIPAN said...

i dint mean this as my only gift!
...for some days whenever i sit to think these mathematical ..precise figures come to mind....a perfect cube..is not perfect as a poem..i had other expectations...but i turned up this way...

a perfect cube may be a zero hour...may be perfect management...or it may be a an endless curiosity...and eternal maze