My family called me ‘Lokka’,
an important one, a leader,
a fellow as tough as a lock
and would knock even a rock.
For my jealous neighbors,
I was only a ‘Bakka’;
that’s fun of words, ye know,
as when rock is read as lock.
Had they meant ‘Olu Bakka‘,
a clown wearing a head mask,
to see whom blokes were ready to rock,
I would have felt merrier.
Anyway, I was not the ‘sokka’,
the least important one, the ruled,
who’s treated as a dirty sock,
because my brother was the last,
whom my family called ‘kukka’,
a puppy, oft bullied and growled at.
So, I was so.. so….. happy
for not being ‘sokka‘ or ‘kukka‘
but being ‘Lokka’, or at least, ‘Bakka’.
‘Lokka‘ – /lɒkkʌ/; ‘Bakka‘ – /bʌkkʌ/; ‘Sokka‘ – /sɒkkʌ/; ‘Kukka‘ -/kʰʊkkʌ/
Photos: Pixabay; Sri Lankan mask, Welcome Library, London
Posted on Poet’s Corner on November 16, 2016