Saturday, November 22, 2014

Racing against ... ?

The rubbers gripping
The steel grey
Hands clenched at
The steering wheels,
Humming motors
Queued up
Till the horizon,
Horns blaring,
Jarring the
Tattered remnants of
Shredded peace.
And amidst this pandemonium,
Another set of claws
Slows, screeches;
The vernal biker
By the power of his beast-ride,
To define his domain,
Discounting the
Decrees of road,
Crisscrosses the embrangle;
The grey labyrinth soon
Devours him.
And while
The ominous siren
Of ambulance clangors callously,
Enduring the
Congestion dutifully,
The crimson splashes dry out.
Undeterred bedlam
The dusk.
The subtraction
Compulsory obituary
Wilts in some scrapbook.

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  1. whoa. that is one powerful and tragic poem. loved your word choices here, like "jarring," "shredded peace," "compulsary obituary".

    i've had several patients who (miraculously) survived either pedestrian/auto accidents or bike/auto accidents (them being the pedestrian or the bike rider). they are walking or riding along, and then suddenly, there is a crash and they hit the pavement and wake up in an ICU, brutally injured. your poem describes it so well.


Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.