the blaze

(by Randeep Wadehra)

it's not easy to talk
to the prisoners
of the past
they never joke
while talking revenge

flames race through
trains
lanes
homes
leave behind
smoldering shingles

blackened bones
stick out of charred flesh
hot streets are colored
with scorched blood

triumphant flags flutter
on a poet’s tomb
no one follows me
down the street
the silence is not a delusion

and the bad news is
vultures shriek in the distance
for their turn

clouds shaped like caskets drift by
while naked cadavers
wait for shrouds

party flags sponsored labels
of pain and suffering
enact farce of protests

you can’t rely on the savants
to tell the truth

the mahatma stands forlorn
on a cracked pedestal
back bent
the loin cloth soiled
a broken walking stick
dangling from his fractured hands
layers of bird-shit on his spectacles
nobody loves the dreamer of lost causes
*****

1

 Vultures are dead, Good to see them alive in your poem even if in dark light, but Sahitya academies alive n kicking in reality, feeding on obviously resources & ideas, on emotions & passion too. But do remember they are not the bench mark of creativity or best judges of it. So don't waste your emotions & passion on thier responses Regards

Davinder | August 14, 2010

 dear randeep this one is good but since i havnt read CSR s either so i cant really comment. and why do we bother this one to get published there do we have any dearth of options? plz reply.

rubina | July 26, 2010