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A Sense of Belonging

A Sense of Belonging
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Wounds of children glow like scintillating ribbons

around the  black  waist of ironies

taking with them the scent

of blushed cheeks of childhood

my seasons  are memories of birds

that  perch on charred branches

writing letters of songs

to  smug spring

frozen in  traps of rhetoric

I won’t come to you

In the  syntax of  newspaper headlines

and deconstruction of  paperback theories

I am the dirge of a mother

holding torn raiments of her

raped daughter

the rubies of blood dripping from the coffin

of  a child

hit by the colonizer’s bullet

a pirouetting  rainbow top

on the demented floor of social psyche

this isn’t a sensible exegesis

but since when did being make any sense

dear ,

night  is absolute blankness

and  my shadow  follows only me

in cataclysms of world’s reflections

I am here and nowhere

only nowhere and here

how pitiless everything has been!

come find me then


art of gestures and nuances  of wit

find me

where I belong

hidden even from my own self

Poet can be reached at


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