(20 June 1952 - / Kolkata / India)

poet Vikram Seth
#29 on top 500 poets
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Prandial Plaint

My love, I love your breasts, I love your nose.
I love your accent and I love your toes.
I am your slave. One word, and I obey.
But please don't slurp your morning brew that way.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: love

Comments about this poem (Prandial Plaint by Vikram Seth )

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  • palas kumar ray (10/8/2008 4:45:00 PM)

    Man is the slave of the habits.
    Habits make the man civilised.
    A civilised man is measured.
    His business of life is clocked.
    Rule of business stricktly honored.
    Love is restricted within the boundary of Night.

    TRUTH SPOKEN
    Alas!

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  • Chitralekha Chetia (8/29/2008 6:00:00 AM)

    My favourite favourite ever. Everytime I look at it, I fall in love with it again.

    0 person liked.
    		0 person did not like.
  • Eric Paul Shaffer (7/22/2005 3:27:00 PM)

    A very amusing comment on what so many mean when they say love. What a world it would be if when lovers said 'I love you, ' they didn't mean 'I own you.' Good work.

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