CANVASS—1
I like red colour always
Like ten horses who drags
The chariot of sun
Your fingertips enameled
With red nail-polish
The under-water plants
With blackish red leaves- akin to blood
You spread this blood everyday
On the dry earth
In the name of religion
In disguise of revolt
Sometimes thru air-attacks
Or the marching of armies with bullets
But how valuable is this red
Without a dropp of which
The life becomes a white canvass
Rajkumar@Kolkata
17-05-2009
Amazing poetic skill and a vey well summed up message: But how valuable is this red Without a dropp of which The life becomes a white canvass Thanks, CP
excellent writting smoothly flowing with vivid images 10++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a sad yet a true approach about this colour Red.... :)