Advance - Poem by Pinaki Dewan
It was the vehicle-night of freedom,
Torture-bells sighing in weird harmony;
Frenzied, bonafide, downsized feelings
In cups of hungry tides.
Bookish leaves glowering for touch,
Memories in piles of utility bills,
A crippled chair in a corner of the sky,
And inhuman hides.
The mirror-paints are drenched in blood now,
Wooden feet tied to water;
There is rust in the lips of conviction,
And fever in man's strides.
In desperate measures of control,
Only the little chalks are lost;
While distances laugh their asses off,
The blackboard subsides.
Comments about Advance by Pinaki Dewan
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You