metallic sheen of that dart
fuses into a dubious scar
ruins send me into an exile
my rebellion streak saves me
your petulant smile revolts me
I hide behind billows of dust
latch of that trap door opens up for me
I fall down listening to staccato of guns
if there is a lesson in all this
I can't see it
it isn't a case of sour grapes
it is more like I lost my grip
"I am caught in the quagmire of war-
of words or bullets, I know not"
17 comments:
Gunned down by words or bullets..each leaves it's own distinct scar and dust..another interesting and clever write..Jae
Gautami, this is an excellent contribution. I like the voice in the second stanza. The final couplet seals the narrator's discontent.
This is one of my favorite Sunday Whirls! I, too, like the ending.
Sometimes words can hurt every bit as much as bullets do, and, the scars might never heal.
Fabulous, descriptive, writing.
"if there is a lesson in all this I can't see." That is indeed very frustrating. Very nice, reflective piece.
love this.
The horrors of war. Well penned, Gautami.
Pamela
Sometimes I get the feeling I'm at war with/against the wordle words. quagmire, indeed.
What an indictment of the conflicts we see around the world. When patriotism and honour are our spurs to aid devious, unseen and hideous plans.
my rebellion streak saves me
your petulant smile revolts me
Love those lines
Your words are very powerful. So often we can't see the lesson in the things that are happening.
"it isn't a case of sour grapes
it is more like I lost my grip"
Nice how you get to this surprising take.
war wether in words or reality are both a waste of life...
the parallel is spot on. the end is tight and sticks.
This is quite the amazing poem. It's different from most of your poetry.
My last comment sounds bad. It's not that your other poems aren't amazing~this simply shows the depth of your writing.
interesting energy in these words!
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