A WOMAN NEVER SLEEPS BEFORE SHE DIES
ebook

A WOMAN NEVER SLEEPS BEFORE SHE DIES

Código de artículo:
E1000823291
Editorial:
BOOKRIX
Fecha edición:
Materia
Libros para Todos
ISBN:
9783748785101
Formato:
EPUB
Idioma:
Inglés
Tipo de libro:
Ebook
DRM
Si

What is poetry? Poetry is wish, it is prayer and it is life. This collection includes poems mainly on the salts of life and if there are some sugar coats that often vanish when the life becomes on And ultimately if it is possible why life is called life and if not why love is called love.         Night at Balasore                                The night at her fashion-less wedding                             On the nude streets of Balasore,                             Beggars hunting sleep                             After day's wrecks,                             Trees luckless at their                             Mid-widow life, yearns                             For a rainy day's dance-                             Men with their salted tragedy                             Glancing women,                             Women meaning grammar                             At their heyday, wearing roses,                             God forbids sleep.                             Only the Dark perching                             On the top of tree                             Washing hands till                             The tinge of blood out                             Or washed,                             Shrill cry of street girl                             Heard, hunger strikes                             Empty breasts, abdomen at once                             With both his hands of thorns                             Till the night grows green,                             Till Dark's washing finishes                             We can speak about                             Avenues, roses or                             Empty smiles' nude parade.       Note-Balasore is a small Indian city in Orissa, reputed for its culture.          The Octopus   Now she sleeps like the last octopus of this yellow sea Who wished to cling to earth, Perfect sad, perfect white face mirrors the soot-ceiling, Hip dismount thighs from worlds, Who could discern different years, lying cold, dull before those peaks? She sleeps when the idea of woman; stretched, stretched and torn, Now the entire Milky Way shall sing ballad of stars, lullaby. Only no sleep will descend, no sleep will come out Of the churned metamorphic sea; A woman never sleeps before she dies. A dustbin is not a dustbin before it's stuffed and stuffed and spill. Now the sea can doze a little before hunting a new octopus? (written after reading a news of an infant female child raped on December, 2015)- excerpts from the book

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