The Girl and her Tiger

Hey, amigos :)

So, I wrote a poem about a boy and a flower but this time it's about a girl and her tiger, whom she cherishes the most in her life. And no, this tiger is nothing like Shere Khan or Richard Parker :P

Esperando Que Les Guste...

Once upon a time

Maybe not that long ago

With the onset of autumn or so

A baby girl chortled her way into the jungle

Jaunting through it, she came across

Wonderful creatures to play along

No matter what the shape or sound

Each was exceptional to have around

But one that was dear to her heart

Was none other than the tiny tiger cub

Day in and day out she nurtured the cub

Hoping that someday it will become the majestic one

As the time passed by,

It became arduous for her to satisfy

The needs of the apple of her eye

Skeptical that maybe

She wasn't enough for the baby

Thought it would be better

To find someone else to cater

The one that would match her capabilities

The tiger chuffed and chuffed but all in vain

So it ran away to cease the pain

Even though she loved it to bits

was engrossed in trivial things

Didn't pay heed to the missing being

And no she wasn't all alone

Bumped into myriads of critters on the way

Some made her gloomy, others made her gay

But none could make her heart pound

Like the tiger when it was around

So she dropped everything and went looking

For the same spot where she first found it tripping

Skittered through the jungle to meet her baby

Ululated when she reached the site

As she saw its degenerated sight

Cursed herself for letting it go

Terrified that she might lose it again

Worked diligently so that it would regain

And this time around, undaunted by the amount of work

Wasn't going to stop, till heard the tiger roar...

~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Comments

My Tips Get The Job Done

Boy, you need gold coins and chains, To feel that silky touch. Honey, being with you meant My soul needed a retouch... You might like maple syrup, But I could never build anything with that softwood. It was like babysitting way into my adulthood... You think your presence made it feel like Niagara? Boy, it was drier than the Sahara. Who gave you the license to operate heavy machinery? You never deserved to be anywhere near this sanctuary. Asking women to "blow" you a kiss, When you are the one too "slow" to catch up, And all you are good for is a diss... You need to work because you don't know how real FORCE works. You get high on your stupid WARS — How would you ever know the language of the STARS ? Isn't it funny you were trying to teach me about fingers? When I can get myself to sing more with my ladyfingers ...

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.

Call Your Wife... Call Your Mother...

Call your wife. Call your mother. Tell them how you talk to women like me when no one's watching— But of course, I'm the Outspoken B tch*, and you, the Outstanding Gentleman in your suit and tie. But sure— I’d rather be outclass than be hung like sea bass on your trophy wall, smiling silent while you call me “crass.” Your twisted kinks. Your polished lies. You think I won’t roar? That I’ll tuck in my shadow just to keep your sin safe? I own my dark. Loud. Proud. You will not cage me with your guilt-laced chains. If you were so happy choosing her over me, Then go flirt with her . Not me. Don’t you dare come here with your diluted apologies and leftover lust. I’d rather be The villain in your story Than your sidepiece in silence. Because I remember— You were a playboy then , You’re still a playboy now , And every time you smile and say “We’re still friends”… God, I puke a little. You know your name. Don’t play lost boy. Don’t hide behind your “Good intentions.” I used to care...

Cruising Alone

Search This Blog