Entire age was spent in search
of self ultimate and he was still
unable to redeem a sad tree.
The silent unglorious drop. Florets falling
one by one like dreams.
White spread. Orange opus. Good-
bye crescent. Blue sky shying away.
A cuckoo on mango grove starts
a melodious croon. Sweet allegation
of betrayal, but for what gain?
Pain bounces back in the eyes of
a sparrow. Cannot find a window to
enter. Concrete walls. Closed doors.
Ad infinitum will move the traffic.
Where to stop? And when to fly?
Qualities were crashing down. Faint
bruises on face. Sticking plaster on
eyes. So many already gone to galaxy.
Sitting on a garbage dump.
He was brooding silently.
a reflection. well-penned! Colors, imagery, insight... and that's what it's about. keep on, sjg
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
On her head sat a pink hat keeping stray thoughts from invading. The thoughts formed a sort of magenta howitzer for which no ammo fit. If it could spit fire the phoenix would turn to ash, would turn to the man at the end of the bar and ask after the welfare of his wife and children.