Last
night I dreamt of women screaming
In a
red-flame-lit darkness
Deep
as the bowels of night
Where
fires fed sparkling bright –
I
dreamt of worlds crumbling
As ideologies
collided
In a
shower of blood and metal
And
words out of books
Two thousand years dead, perhaps, but -
The
women went on screaming.
Rockets
arcing past the stars
Bombs
coming down like rain
On
the house and the field
The
living and the slain.
And
the women screamed
Clutching
life-bundles to their
Nurturing
breasts
Which
gave forth blood and tears
As
men in suits and uniform
Lectured
on who was right and who was wrong
The
women went on screaming.
Last
night I dreamt of women screaming
While
death flew above on gory wings.
And
the children cried
As
their mothers died.
And
I saw the coins falling, falling
In a
shower of gold, new coins on old
Blood-flecked
in the blood-coloured night
As
they fell, forever, out of sight
Still
I could hear the coins falling.
Last
night I heard the women screaming
And
it was not
Merely
dreaming.
Copyright B Purkayastha 2014
I for one believe it will come to America as well; to much hate in the world; with no compassion, for anyone; any more; sappy; oh well;
ReplyDeleteGreat writing though,
ReplyDeleteBravo, sir.
ReplyDeleteOur hearts and thoughts, too, are with the Palestinian, Syrian and Iraqi people but your poem crystallized our feelings so perfectly. Thanks, Bill.
ReplyDelete