Wednesday, February 1, 2017

POEM: "Becalmed"



Becalmed


He becomes a writer
a thousand years waiting
and for some reason

for a harmless detonation
he writes odd poems
of hearts and souls

(by all means, sweet love
transfer those cultures
Astérix to Astro Boy)

he starts off on the Mekong
a thousand years waiting
for the wind to pick up

a kite gets caught
between the gust & the air
and falls at the border

he watches a boat
by a slow silver river
play an old game in the mind

the inklings to scatter
from blows and the hot wire
sparks fly off the thousand words

the kite goes as high
as it can, one eye spotting
the dangers below

looks like soldiers
in a thousand fields sow hearts
marked in land mines dark

a poem comes grudgingly
like a body pulled along the ground
and silent people stare


© 2017 Rob Schackne

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