POEMORAMA AT PAPER POETRY
That Place Needs Formaldehyde
A Free Verse on War for Poemonama Prompt I
Spring has come
But it stinks.
Stillness rowed in trenches,
Fallen lives strewn by the aisles,
Till eyes survey, static moves,
The roads smell like war,
The painter strokes a brush of red,
Canvas of mayhem, death of
dreams and wish,
A devil’s smile, taking centre stage —
You cannot miss, what’s amiss!
Homes roofless, ladder to the sky
Eyes tear-dried, look for respite,
Beats of massacre congest the empty,
Screaming silence echo from roads trite,
Marching to life, smelling end near,
End will sure fall on mortals bare,
Lines on palm sit firm and clear,
Life losing life, not an option here,
Hope bearing weight of meat,
Fatigued legs tracing path anew,
New land, new ways inscribed,
Fate the driver stands in queue,
Where night will bloom like dawn,
Mind-portico shed the silent tears,
Maybe, one day, death will learn to
live like life —
Free of all its ghastly fears,
It is not winter, it is spring
It is winter even in spring,
Spring ushering guns ’n’ roses —
Only roses borrowing hues
Cadavers bring,
That place needs formaldehyde,
Spring has come,
And it stinks.
(Poemorama Prompt I: Free Verse)
Some interesting musings from the Poemorama stable:
Thank you Team Paper Poetry Carolyn Hastings Suntonu Bhadra Indubala Kachhawa for making poetry writing a festival of sorts!
Thank you everyone for stopping by and engaging. You are much appreciated.
