Even a microscopic virus petrifies me.
I resist this latest design of death
with mask and sanitizer.
I withstand the horny words
that gore me.
The waves of temptation pass through my veins:
I resist them like an elephant in chains.
A headstone of pain reminds me
of an aching past.
I resist my memory
smoldering as the dried dung.
I resist the reek
with the perfume of poetry.
My fresh thoughts strengthen my tires
like Kevlar.
Summer is sweltering.
I resist the drought like a camel.
Anxieties flood with the monsoon water.
I resist the lunatic weather.
Things to be resisted are plenty
in the pod of time.
'To live is to resist.'
First published in The Literary Hatchet (issue #28) .
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem