THE HOUSE OF DROWNING TREE

By-Nitya Kumar

 

It begins with the site of a shivering pianist on a broken piano

A poet lost in the realm of sorrow

The image of a hundred blackbirds bursting out of a tree

I, the tree

Left alone, naked, melancholic

My branches, deposition of a silent applause

My loneliness, repetitive

A hurricane stab in the heart of a black hole

My anxiety,

A drowning shipwreck of breathless contemplation

The shipwreck, my house

Housing an eternal air of mourning

A lingering dilemma

A stale vow

A perishing soul with a buried wound

The manifestation of a bleeding array of thoughtless thoughts

The taste of a burdened mind fresh off the stove

Served with the heat of an impending doom.

 

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This poem has been published in the book 'The Last Flower Of Spring'. Buy the paperback copy on Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/y9sydnxn

 


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