An angel has descended from the heaven,
dressed like a mourner at a funeral, into
my arms, to mourn the death of the God,
and I am holding her with the licentious
tears in my eyes in the midst of my smiles.
Alas! How will I tell her that the world
has no time to mourn the death of the God.
How will I tell her that every man is controlled
by a solitary thought- How to keep himself alive?
Astounding, thought provoking, mesmerizing lines. BRAVA!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)
Reviewed by M. B. (Reader)
Reviewed on April 4, 2005
Bhuwan! Your artistic vision captivates me. Your poetry invaribly poses a universal question or provides the potential answers to ponder for days after reading your words. THE WORLD HAS NO TIME is composed simply yet becomes an explosive read by the time one reaches the last phrase:
How will I tell her that every man is controlled
by a solitary thought- How to keep himself alive?
God does not die, except inside the man. That is when man kills the world, and God mourns, outside the world, outside the man.
As usual, excellent poetry, Bhuwan.
Love&Light*
Alexandra*
Bhuwan, your poems are always moving and have what I can only describe as a soft but pure intensity about them. This one, along with the picture, I find particularly profound. I hope you are well. Dawn
Married ten years, and more in love than ever, Robert and Marcie have everything to live for. But a terrible secret is breaking Robert's heart: he knows that Marcie is about to die...
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Love & Light,
Joseph
So deeply meaningful - so profound - so perfect!!
Blessings,
Robert
Astounding, thought provoking, mesmerizing lines. BRAVA!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)
How will I tell her that every man is controlled
by a solitary thought- How to keep himself alive?
~ Mari
You always make your point!
Eileen
captivating poem!
Take care,
Sherry
As usual, excellent poetry, Bhuwan.
Love&Light*
Alexandra*
Love Tinka