She carefully arranged the
last remains of
her poetic ambitions
while he helped to drive
the last nail into the coffin
with his sharp tongue
drill bit
No one attended
the funeral
She was out there alone
There were no tears
except perhaps her own
She carefully lowered what
she considered to be
her works of art
into the earth
for all time to come
hoping desperately that
the creatures of the ground
would feast on the paper
leaving no traces behind.
OMG Sandra...this is as dark as it gets.. a poets death! ...but shouldn't poems live forever? or maybe not... but at least the good ones!
This is one of my favorite styles of poems. The characters are so somberly carrying out their (last) duties and it is all so serious..Nothing is as delicious to me as this type of plot. You carried it off with swashbuckling style! Hope some of the poems do survive, though..
I hope the soft copies of the poems survive.....! ! Whats all this about burying poems? ? Symbolic destruction of....? ? Cheers. Subroto
buried in these lines is a story untold, only implied. very powerful write Sandra. that's what good poetry is about. however, tangible things can be buried, the spirit is above such rituals... 10 Mamta
I was sure that I had commented upon this one before but there is no other comment. But this is one of my favorite poems, and it's got killer originality in every pore.
this reminds me of 'trapped contours' i posted long long ago...
truely wonderful.i love this kind of poems ''that have meaning'' keep it up.
This poem glitters in the darkness of its own stanzas.It is powerful, evocative and exceptionally poignant. I advise this gifted poet to write on.10/10. Love, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
poems are born children..a fate they get from god...a very deep write friend..please take back your words