I bleed the City.
With shards of rejection in my veins
The fury, the heartbreak, the
Slamming of gates.
A human wall, of
Purified hands, closing in, shutting out,
Spewing fumes of vile smugness.
I bleed the City.
The cradle, the earth,
Glass bowls that
Rock babies, among gravel and green.
Passed around communal arms, eyes taped
With certainty, stunted by fawning,
Inspecting sodden roots,
While new leaves are snipped off
For daring to be fresh.
I bleed the City.
The fabric I carry, the honks in my
Head; the corners of childhood, neon signs that scream
No, the stripping of self, divesting of entity.
Hurled into a morass of the unknown and
Unknowing, the joy and the light frame my
Dark core, the bounty that decorates
Crumbled pieces of
Heart.
I bleed the City.
I bleed the City.
Through lumps in the throat and knots in the spirit
May my ministrations redeem me.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
It kind of gets into your soul ,doesn’t it?However much we crib while we’re here, go away for a few days even & I miss it like hell:)
S.I.G.H!
It cannot be done, and yet it must be:(
Heartbreaking.
This is really deeeeep! 🙂
Read it five times…..need I say more?
M
rajni: 🙂
sukanyabora: Sigh is right.
dipali: 😦 There, there.
Cocktail party: Yeah, and then I meet folks in the offline world and they’re appalled that I giggle and chatter about *gasp* shoes.
myglassroom: No, M-kins. Sending a big hug your way. Give me news of Princess A.
Your poetry, to me, is always loft
Consider me a plain, old softy
Blood and gore
I do not adore
But i reckon you miss your city enough to be crotchety!
Your poetry, to me, is always lofty
Consider me a plain, old softy
Blood and gore
I do not adore
But i reckon you miss your city enough to be crotchety!
Aunty G: You’re my favorite softy, aunt I never had,
Your presence makes me oh-so-glad,
Do my words take a toll
On your gentle soul
Forgive me, I’m unintentionally bad.