Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Kipling's Ass

The Hun is at the gate! A driven foe,
I know you love to hear how Germans die.
for body, soul an iron sacrifice.
'Ach Kamerad' they cry, then squeal like stoats.
Atrocities engorged as scarlet crazy
squirts spawn about the corpses of old toads;
menagerie of carrion and waste
shambles across a century of crows.
And then, in boiling shards of poignant beauty,
(wolves graze, and dust becomes the serpent's meat)
through a becalmed and still reflective maunder,
(trusting a day there shall be no more shooting)
erupt emotions - soaring, wheeling fleets,
leap into hope that even war surrender.

1 comment:

SEWA MOBIL SURABAYA said...

Like poetry, very good. You remind me of when I was little in the village, on top of the mountain. life is full of struggles. a nice post. perfectly. I'm interested in your article. I remember when i was child. Thank you I'm waiting for the next article @ Sewa Mobil Surabaya