Peter Bakowski

(15 October 1954 - / Melbourne / Australia)

Portrait Of Blood - Poem by Peter Bakowski

The thin armour

you give the newborn,

the midwife

washes away.



In playgrounds,

when the bullied fall,

you rush

to the hill of a bruise.



The shape of your engine room,

lovers carve into tree trunks.



In war

you blossom from

every wounded soldier and civilian.

In the field hospital

you glisten on

the gloved hands of surgeons

and each busy scalpel.



You’re not to be trusted,

rummaging in the attic of our skulls,

studying the blueprints of our veins,

deciding where to place

your quick assassins,

clot and haemorrhage.



I hold my breath,

check my pulse,

as you make your rounds.



(from Beneath Our Armour)


Comments about Portrait Of Blood by Peter Bakowski

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Friday, May 11, 2012



[Report Error]