Sunday, February 8, 2015
Mastering A Wishful Stanza
Mastering a thought may be enthusiastic
But soldiers of the grave find one only,
And this thought resounds in the heavens,
Neighbours of the army are selfishly in love.
Mastering a straw can drive a volley to extinction,
Infiltrating the callow wanderers is like folly.
But the ice-cream is melting whilst you fight,
And the starvation is relentless dutifully.
My thought carries a thinker's quest,
Ossifying the thanking and grateful look.
When do we understand men who undertake
A funeral of the whole triangle?
Returning to similar shapes, we behold them not,
We smile and taste the different animals of the day,
Plants precociously smile like similitudes
Of my wishful stance and stanza.
Topic(s) of this poem: poems