Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Sky is a taut, grey net spread, at its  best in creating panic, relentless day a brutish marauder, drained of color of every kind, bleak, even thought of you distant, my nectar plays hide and seek, I am plunging in a hallucinatory spin, down, down. From inside a furnace closed with a tight lid under which heat in it's fiery glory permeates like never before, a full- throated roar, without any sound it travels around, in waves after waves after waves, to scorch every single thing under the blood thirsty sun, on a hurried march for revenge,green turbaned trees and scarf adorned branches changed all those embellishments gone bone dry,now stand apologetic like kids that made bed wet and caught red handed, shrunk in shame and pain. Narcolepsy reigns, drowsiness day and night, like marijuana haze follows.             This summer makes its name stick in bad books,making T.S.Eliot look shame faced for calling one past tame April, uncharitably the cruelest of it all. But this, this is an unbridled wild horse none can in no way do anything to stop. When even the last drop of water from the pond evaporates,sunburn peels the skin, sun stroke down people, who are unaware, cruelty of April, becomes monumental. Perhaps in few days time May could barter that bad name from April,I'd easily guess. Buildings , in rows and rows lie, til horizon, like blood drained corpses all though the day, the  appetite for life, they evidently has lost. Song birds on flowered trees, have gone mute, doves scamper, dart in to the air, with hope to get few drops of water  from somewhere Kindhearted few fill water and feed on containers for stray birds,taking cue from the practices of forefathers. Change in climate is an ogre, that could with bare hands smash pompous attitudes  and other human constructs! Will there ever be a limit, to the red eyed monster, avarice, we all pamper, within our inner courtyards, that forces human beings to to do "Harakiri" like a proud Samurai does with his own sword.
0
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
Summer rides roughshod over a shriveled world
Sky is a taut, grey net spread, at its  best in creating panic, relentless day a brutish marauder, drained of color of every kind, bleak, even thought of you distant, my nectar plays hide and seek, I am plunging in a hallucinatory spin, down, down. From inside a furnace closed with a tight lid under which heat in it's fiery glory permeates like never before, a full- throated roar, without any sound it travels around, in waves after waves after waves, to scorch every single thing under the blood thirsty sun, on a hurried march for revenge,green turbaned trees and scarf adorned branches changed all those embellishments gone bone dry,now stand apologetic like kids that made bed wet and caught red handed, shrunk in shame and pain. Narcolepsy reigns, drowsiness day and night, like marijuana haze follows.             This summer makes its name stick in bad books,making T.S.Eliot look shame faced for calling one past tame April, uncharitably the cruelest of it all. But this, this is an unbridled wild horse none can in no way do anything to stop. When even the last drop of water from the pond evaporates,sunburn peels the skin, sun stroke down people, who are unaware, cruelty of April, becomes monumental. Perhaps in few days time May could barter that bad name from April,I'd easily guess. Buildings , in rows and rows lie, til horizon, like blood drained corpses all though the day, the  appetite for life, they evidently has lost. Song birds on flowered trees, have gone mute, doves scamper, dart in to the air, with hope to get few drops of water  from somewhere Kindhearted few fill water and feed on containers for stray birds,taking cue from the practices of forefathers. Change in climate is an ogre, that could with bare hands smash pompous attitudes  and other human constructs! Will there ever be a limit, to the red eyed monster, avarice, we all pamper, within our inner courtyards, that forces human beings to to do "Harakiri" like a proud Samurai does with his own sword.
Harakiri-Ritualistic honor suicide by the Japanese "Samurai" warriors who  value honor above any thing
k-balachandran
Written by
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem