Being my other soul
would you go for―
a saddest kiss with a gold fish?
Nothing else matters.
Weaving blue flesh on
starched bones.
What else you need,
when the moon cries outside
the broken window?
And the sands and
palms and cacti had the
guts to take in trifecta.
And the blood
to remember the affinity
with the unknown.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: May 1st, 2022 19:32
- Category: Nature
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments1
(once again, dear cherished Poet
and kind, Guru
you've inspired me to surpass
my feeble limits
with these words of a poetic reply
thank you!)
'intentions
transmuting our wishful, yearnings
into sincerity's, reality fragments
a syllable
imbued with more life, than an ocean
of desire's, aspirations..
a lifetime's conversation, in but a versed line
or a winking Moon's realisations
in but a blurry stanza
of vehemence to humility's, divinity
resonance;
inking, squeezed vitamin D
insight's
from all that cherished, Nature
we observe as we absorb
freeing ourselves, to reach
in hope
than one other, may understand
our need for solace's company
shoulder to shoulder, in that pit of life
with our brethren's, in contemplation
of humanistic ideal's
anchored by our selfish, ambitions...'
L. B. Mek
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