Friday, April 4, 2008

mushroom at a cemetery



childhood

safely buried

6 feet under

drugs, abuse and sex

.

some little softness

burnt to ashes

on which dogs roll

around funeral pyres

.

naked innocence

freshly bathed

left for vultures

on the mute towers

of indefference

.

as

.

sparkling eyes

hold back

hungry hands

reaching for

the spat chewing gum

.

only

the red flowers

in the hand

wither in shame

.

4 comments:

ra said...

of the dust that remains
what of it....?
like all that has come and gone, nothing exists

sahyadri said...

hold on to the this particle of life for a split second and then its gone....
beautiful images.

mayz said...

not commetin on d poem rather d pic on ur last posts...intriguing

R.E. said...

nice... it's like each line is a different poem/story all together... "back hungry hand reaching for the spat chewing gum"....
i like the randomness of it all