Foul words on screaming winds
attach to me vicious lies.
Soft in approach,
loud in defiance –
suckers lavish wounds
already frayed –
betrayal saps my strength.
Let its scorched touch
be enslaved by innocence,
and mercy unknown to me,
drop gentle from heaven.
A Quadrille is a new poem form consisting of 44 words.
Second call for Poets for Peace and my 2nd contribution – thank you to everyone who has responded with kindness so far today…to help reach another 100 and more, go here and please leave your poem in the comments section of Neha’s blog and it will be added. https://forgottenmeadows.wordpress.com/2016/07/16/calling-all-poetscreative-minds-to-a-grand-collaboration-poets-for-peace/comment-page-5/#comment-19287
We have accrued
a legion of wars over
centuries that pass like wandering
soldiers in our dreams
shattered by bombs and the broken
promises of liars and tyrants,
squeezing till we scream and succumb –
hoping we toe the line,
discard our beliefs, cease disrobing
moral injustices, cease clamouring
for peace and end our search for solutions.
Violence, hate, fear and terrorism is written
in unjust profit margins and margins
of error, meted out by greed, and as human traffic
we have become a bank balance of death
in their greedy pockets.
All this time we
remain nothing but
Only for a while,
for a moment, I thought
that time was going to change it –
when hate might become a memory –
in a time of change,
We have scarce time,
and goals like pythons wind
around our dreams –
choking, crushing, till they seep
and we weep like spoilt children
when the charmer tames.
Changes are made but are
brushed aside with a sweep of an engine
flying aloft – metallic, death throes.
No change there, just death –
always at rest in someone’s
memory – all of the time, and which
not only for a short time
If we don’t change
in the times
in which we live,