Tuesday, March 20, 2007

of the sort

What comes but poesies
for all the drinks refused
for the holes made in pretty heads
for over-baked bodies in bakeries
for almond-eyes bought by terror
for planting holy bombs by the river
for the arms' alms in the name of salwa judum


what grows but poesies

for today you can only wear cotton
for today you can only eat wheat
for today you can only sleep on earth
for after you get tired of gunning
(which you will)
you will come home
to my gossamer love lines
we all have battles to go to


what will remain but poesies?

2 comments:

Nothingman said...

Dudette, get some vodka and write some happy poetry.

"you will come home
to my gossamer love lines
we all have battles to go to"

Oh, she will return to me ;)

I relate.

Thanks for the beautiful lines!

Zedekiah said...

Thank u nothingman

as always its a pleasure.........