Reveries are broken I wake up in despair Bombs blast human bodies Indiscriminately Human flesh—-of a child; a mother; a father who knows? Who cares? The issue is of attracting attention In the name of a religion To establish the ferocity of its believers.
Doesn’t the child demand attention of its mother? To rest a while in her lap To extract a rare smile from her sleep deprived self. Lunges forward to clasp her hair Scratches the tender flesh of her cheeks Draws blood Does everything to make its value known to the mother who holds it.
A generation of children Ill-fed Physically and mentally Up in arms against those who have done all but to recognize this vacuity. .
About the book: This is a selection of poetry about solitude and other obsessions that have distracted, driven, destroyed and / or defined us. Spanning genres, styles, emotions, time & place, these works by a collective of 5 poets are
Through perfect imperfections Are we able to find evolution. The flaws we face on a everyday basis Seen through our own eyes as love. A ballast on which we see each other. Without fear, without hesitation. I see you, not
True and sacred relations are made for each other Two hearts met first time in the college To begin an unhackneyed relationship Together they had cup of coffee Together they studied in library The friendship grew into love one day
Shedding the wholeness of negation you arrive: fear was sweeping the floor when smoke screen of love was hung on blue morning, you groped for a hidden coin, lost in the woods of mania. Distinguishing a chaste word, without thought,
loggerhead turtles drawn to the moon become distracted, lured by airport beacons to die in strange terrain here in day’s dry whiteness lizards endlessly pause, and bats caper through clustering dusks of vines and lemons drawn from solar cells water