About my Poetry...

This is a Satanic Pilgrim. The poetries on this page are completely my own creations.

My Poetries: They categorically deal with Death, bitter betrayals, seperations...
Because Life is bitter...deal with it...We Die because We Live...Betrayal is in Human blood and Seperation...
as Matthew Arnold had said...
"We mortal millions live alone..."
and
"...Who order'd that their longing's fire
Should be, as soon as kindled, cool'd ?
Who renders vain their deep desires ?-
...A God, a god their severance rul'd..."

Friday, March 6, 2009

Air strike in a Countryside

The glittering glorious sun over head,
The smooth soothing breeze passing by,
The little stream flowing down the mountain high,
Flocks of little birds fly across the azure blue sky.

The tall trees waiving in joy,
The white sheep bleating in the distance-
A group of honey bees humming in a choir,
The air saturated in flowers’ colorful essence.

The buffaloes roaming about aimless on the meads,
Green and fresh for the cattle to feed,
The farmer boy running to meet his time,
While the little red bird sings in a chime.

Suddenly a croaking buzz in the air...
The aged farmer got up from his chair...
Up in the sky a formation of 'birds' *
Of not the usual but 'mechanical' kind*.

The wrinkled eyes gaze in anxiety
As they fly him by…
Moments pass…
And few droppings* fall from the sky…

A second’s silence…
And then his world sentenced to eternal oblivion.
__________________________________________
Note: This poem is based on World War I. The War triggered by imperialistic aspirations of the forming powers of the world snatched away the beautiful, peaceful life of the innocent common people, people in the country side, who wanted no part of it.
*Annotations:
'meads': Meads here means meadow.
'birds' : the word 'birds' as used in the closing portion of the poem is to mean Aeroplanes. Aeroplanes during World War I, were still in its early stages and their shape used to resemble that of a huge bird. The county folks, who were completely ignorant of the modern day developments in the field of science, could not help but imagine these aeroplanes to be 'big birds'.
'mechanical kind' : Here the words 'mechanical kind' is mentioned to give a hint to the reader that these 'birds' were not birds of feather, but resembled more like machines.
'droppings' : The term 'droppings' here is used to mean explosives/bombs which were dropped from the aeroplanes which had attacked the beautiful little town.

2 comments:

Midnight Raven said...

The poem is beautiful at a quick glance; but even more when taken the proper time to read it.

Its written very vivid; that its easily imaginable. The way you have written it I can imagine I am somebody who was witness to that.

It makes you think of someones last moments. Where time seems to not exist. Where the moments pass by so slowly; but are gone all too soon.

The way you have written, you have painted such a beautiful photo with your words. That though this horror was occurring; the sun still shined proudly... all of nature was slowed down.

"The farmer boy running to meet his time," - This line was straight to the point, yet subtly; and very deep. Its a single line, but deep.

Well done.

- Midnight Raven

Satanic pilgrim said...

thank u roxan :)

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