Monday, March 28, 2016


[ An ode to the poetic mind of Pablo Neruda ]

through a jungle
of beliefs-
i run from house to house
chased by a raging bull

how do i
describe you
in words alone-
all the words in me
are 'stolen'

hidden under
a white brimmed hat
i read faces
bricks and lanes
burnt by Santiago sun

when the end came
six and half hours later
i was envisioning
the army searching my house
for a man named 'poetry'

treading on  a planet
snapped from all modes of return
the soil
coloured with blood
of perished revolts

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