The Tycoon And I
The murderously monotonous tycoon got up with a sordid groan even before the cock could crow outside his bedroom window; to nonchalantly squabble his sanctimonious appointments for the morning,
While I snored like a gentle giant all day; evading every trace of ferociously atrocious daylight; only to profusely drown myself into a paradise of celestial poetry; all throughout the voluptuously star studded night.
The indiscriminately slandering tycoon got up with in a state of inexplicably ungainly shock; treacherously preparing his every bone to walk with his corporate comrades and with only a pair of shorts on his body; in the uncontrollably trembling wind of the winter dawn,
While I unrelentingly fantasized with my eyes perennially shut all blistering day; only to insatiably churn unfathomable volumes of poetry; in the heart of the ravishingly pearly night.
The derogatorily corrupt tycoon got up as even the most mercurial of ant tickled his foot; envisaging it to be his dreadfully dastardly boss; snapping his salary for the month,
While I romantically shut my lids to the sunshine drifting down the majestic hills all day; only to intransigently fulminate into a catharsis of heart rendering poetry; in the lap of the iridescently beautiful night.
The truculently chauvinistic tycoon got up and stirred the entire household awake; even as the yawn dogmatically refrained to leave his inexorably aching mouth,
While I innocuously sang and snoozed all day with the symbiotic beats of Nature Divine; only to spawn into an entrenchment of unassailably priceless poetry; in
the fabric of the sensuously enchanting night.
The maliciously grotesque tycoon got up to the first rings of his sleazily embellished mobile phone; for which he gave the most indescribable of abuse but still considered it more than his wife and the only measly mantra for his life,
While I cozily tucked myself under the caverns of unprecedented enthrallment all blazingly unstoppable day; only to magically inundate the atmosphere with eclectically vibrant poetry; in the miraculously healing rhythm of the spell bindingly
panoramic night.
The perfidiously barbarous tycoon got up like frigidly colorless icecream; wholesomely brainwashed by the chill of his state-of-the-art airconditioner; and the
ostentatiously bizarre whisky that he had consumed to please his clients; the evening before,
While I surreally wandered like an unhindered prince through the ebulliently cascading waterfalls all day; only to euphorically erupt into a festoon of sacrosanct poetry; in the everlastingly effulgent cadence of the regally rain soaked night.
The obnoxiously white collar tycoon got up asphyxiating the throat of his adorable wife; perceiving it to be the whiplash of his maliciously decrepit senior; as his nightmare continued relentlessly mercilessly,
While I assimilated all benign goodness of this scintillating planet with my eyelashes curled all day; only to timelessly gallivant with the heaven of immaculate poetry; in the playground of the ecstatically moonlit night.
The invidiously blood sucking tycoon got up with a cleaver on his newborn's throat; for inadvertently teaching him to uninhibitedly rest and reap,
While I fantastically obfuscated myself far away from the insipid vagaries of this planet all day; only to remarkably revel in the aura of godly poetry; in the heart of the ingratiatingly charismatic and vivid night.
O! Yes my life was infinite times more blessed than the satanically marauding and hollow tycoon; for although he had all laurels and wealth in this world to whimsically execute,
He eventually went to the Lord's hell for diffusing abhorrently prejudiced unhappiness in every molecule around him; while I immortally lived even after death
without even earning a single penny; in the breath of my Omnipotent poetry.
Font size:
Submitted by nikhilparekh on October 14, 2019
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:59 min read
- 10 Views
Quick analysis:
| Scheme | XA XA XA XXA XBA XXA BA XA XXX |
|---|---|
| Characters | 3,822 |
| Words | 596 |
| Stanzas | 9 |
| Stanza Lengths | 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 2, 2, 3 |
5 fans
Translation
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"The Tycoon And I" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/51298/the-tycoon-and-i>.
Powered by CITE.ME
Discuss the poem The Tycoon And I with the community...
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In