The Night of Poetry


Saturday, June 04, 2005
The white screen of death



I can visualize that happening
The power of death is palpable
Amidst disbelief, impossible reason
Unthinking brain-aliveness
I can see the yellowed feet
Jutting out of the white sheet
Fleeting flies gratuitously sharing
Fickle aliveness with the dead
Existence logic is devoid and white
Like the all-enveloping sheet.

Posted at 06:11 am by adukuri

 

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Poetry based upon actual experiences, not one thought up in the intellectual aridness of a pseudo-thinker. Words as they mean in the specific context of recollected thought or image , not meaning several things at a time but that which re-creates an aura or a haze of an earlier experience










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