bloodied feathers fall on calm river
a sky chewed up through chest-smashing calls of parting
Hunter – the Nishadh –
He stands, shameless, stoic, stark in laughter,
Inebriation of non-violence in hand, red eyes,
Bandit Ratnakar awakes
sad questions in eyes, he stays awake, stunned by this sudden pain
two eyes of one swan – hurt to death
– strewn astray by feet
Rishi, speechless in shame, Vedic mantras make no answer
Golden dreams of fortitude in eyes,
the Hunter has won
From ashes of forgetting rises –
a past, aflame
Vessels of blood burn in brutal wrath,
Rishi burns in the hatred of denial
-- Today, by the rice-bereft hut, does she still stay awake?
His lover, her breasts are made of skin – does she hold a baby-skeleton to her?
In peals of laughter the Dasyu poet
– he tears those false flags of non-anger
Day of darkness, fulfilled,
to end by the dimly caving shores
1 comment:
the stark imagery and the death-knell of something, something vast and vague and we should care deeply about instead of click-bait and pokemon go.
Post a Comment