Like Oranges
by Debashish Haar — Read all 156 poems by Debashish Haar
Friday, December 15, 2006
It is impossible to enter the sea
when dead men walk on water
writing summons,
invitations and love letters.
Those who thrive on salt air,
and peel their notebooks
like oranges in March,
enter in a violent way.
Thoughts shift
like a river that changed its course
after a giant earthquake.
There’s no one to talk or listen
even the air is hydrophobic.
Copyright ©2005, Debashish Haar, All Rights Reserved
Aberjhani
God Bless us all...
Great Write!
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
even the air is hydrophobic.
A sad sign of our modern times I fear, Debashish.
Take care,
Sherry
Regis
This poem speaks to me of the importance of seasons in ones life, and how inserting oneself, intellectually or emotionally, into something at the wrong time can potentially be antithetic to original purpose.
Richard Lloyd Cederberg
Blessings & Peace,
Joselyn