Where now is the fervor?
Where now is the fervor?
Does the smoke appear less striking,
Less black against azure horizons?
From afar I see the smoke
It billows night into the day
It cleaves the sky
Coalescing with that of other fires
An amalgamation of animus
Holding ransom the sun
I witness in despair
The world become the oil fields of Kuwait
Black pillars suspended by acrid skies
Children strewn like confetti
Homes and lives turned to rubble
And all I do is write
Whisper against roar of machines
And wonder
If throwing a stone will make a difference
It is difficult to not fall prey to anger
When it hunts the tall grass
The air sweet with the smell of blood
Summoning the primal
Why resist natural inclinations
They won't stop while I breathe
Till my flash is gnashed between their teeth
Or I am one
Of them
Light does not destroy the dark
It merely brushes to the side
Finding corners
Only darkness consumes darkness
What good to crush the cockroach
When for each
A hundred more infest the walls
Except for the pleasure
Of crushing
That taste of bile as teeth grit
I feel myself descend the staircase morose
I wade into seething
My supposed values trail behind me
Clamoring cans on a string
Beckoning me
As they
One by one
Fall off
Fading into deep waters
Does the smoke appear less striking,
Less black against azure horizons?
From afar I see the smoke
It billows night into the day
It cleaves the sky
Coalescing with that of other fires
An amalgamation of animus
Holding ransom the sun
I witness in despair
The world become the oil fields of Kuwait
Black pillars suspended by acrid skies
Children strewn like confetti
Homes and lives turned to rubble
And all I do is write
Whisper against roar of machines
And wonder
If throwing a stone will make a difference
It is difficult to not fall prey to anger
When it hunts the tall grass
The air sweet with the smell of blood
Summoning the primal
Why resist natural inclinations
They won't stop while I breathe
Till my flash is gnashed between their teeth
Or I am one
Of them
Light does not destroy the dark
It merely brushes to the side
Finding corners
Only darkness consumes darkness
What good to crush the cockroach
When for each
A hundred more infest the walls
Except for the pleasure
Of crushing
That taste of bile as teeth grit
I feel myself descend the staircase morose
I wade into seething
My supposed values trail behind me
Clamoring cans on a string
Beckoning me
As they
One by one
Fall off
Fading into deep waters
1 Comments:
Ozy, great poem. I hope this would ruffle a few things here. :-)
Post a Comment
Comments are moderated. Please be patient - an admin will be along soon to check on the pending list.
<< Home