Mind rumpus; thoughts viscous; words pause
Vicious vagueness vituperates
Poesy prowls; never in poise!
Demurs to egress with prowess
Ticklish process it is, to pick
One thick globule of slick morass
That abounds our social precincts
It’s like opt’ng the best of the worst
Then ensues my usual address
Showcasing to the world, this slush
What a curse it’s to our progress
In abstruse poetic phrases
Read they, some with seriousness
Some with a snigger, unimpressed
All to forget in few minutes
Thus my dénouement rests and rusts.
Before I come to my senses
Slips back the dirt into its source
With a last laugh at my amiss
With stolid stares, I remain stoic
This story doesn’t end here, friends
Again I stick my seeking hands
Into the surrounding quagmire
This time for fistfuls, with vengeance
why such vengeance in the poem? ...... beautiful right and meaningfully penned.....be careful......
why such vengeance in the poem? ...... beautiful right and meaningfully penned.....be careful......
Great combination of so many words beginning with the same consonant. They provide a lot of punch and food for the ears adding extras to their meaning. The s words are especially effective. They also remind me of the previous poem about snakes.
Thats why you are my fav poet sir.....great great poem....you rock sir....goes to my fav....10
our poetry is our survival, , , , a vehicle of catharsis at a minimum....and even more for others....pain shared is diminished
You have certainly given vent to your anger in this poem....I agree with Indira..you need to chill out...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When you get up to your elbows in quagmire? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?