Children

Nandini

Poetry is a music a rhythm if you follow the rules you will
love it. So take a glass of wine or a cigarette and read it

smoothly slowly lovely that’s it.

My name is Nandini
I sell pens in the traffic signal
When the signal gets red
I sell pens long and elastic pens


I move door after door
Carrying bunches of pen

I knock on the door
Five a pen for ten three pens
But no one buys
No one buys
They  tell we have a pen
Small and fountain pen

I don’t know how to write
How to read
But i know how to sell these pens

Someone buy some one buy
Five a pen for ten three pens

Child in door shining pen
Mamma i need i need this pen
Long and elastic pen

How much for a pen?

My age is five
Five a pen for ten three pens

One i sold
Still left in fold

Someone buy Some one buy
Five a pen for ten three pens

Bunches of pen i carry
With each dip of the sun
When the foot paths belong to the rich
In between the short skirts white lady’s
In between the family’s holding small baby’s
I carry pen bunches of pen
Long and elastic pens

Some times
Waving hands discard me
Go away with your pen long and elastic pen
We don’t need your pen
Your dirty pen
Pen

But I have to raise my hands
From the evening till dark 
Because the morning is not going to gift me
A school to use this pen
So i only know how to sell these pens

Someone buy some one buy
Five a pen for ten three pens
My name is Nandini
I sell pens in the traffic signal
When the signal gets red

I sell pens long and elastic pens

Indian Street Writer

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *