Bickering lights. Flamingos with
pink cancer grasping their
throats. Oars wrestling
blue waters to
hold the boat's
echelon on the sea.
Traffic jam of thoughts,
bundled up in
sacks, rooms, on
beds and pillows bursting
open cotton feathers.
Cold dead mats on the
floor after countless
stirs of autopsy.
Coiled snake noise
driving like screw
into our cork ears
to mine those
tambourines out.
Goddess grows a hair
of fire, huts burn
and apply kerosene
balms on our spirits.
Saffron flowers bearing
moons, Plantain leaves
in rainy emotions
cannot bring out rope-
length sentences and
speeches. Leave them
as they are,
unprovoked by routes
of descriptions........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem