The spoils huddled in the trench:
Nefarious hubris of animate matter,
Biological ordure, cosmic dust, mangy tatter
Are progeny of flesh. It will derange
All living beings except the very Nature:
Phrenetic engine, enchafing surly instincts:
Only to grub and propagate toward extincts
And venerate this savage legislature.
Each life brings gnoulish brood. To see
This sentient`s deceit. Its crafty tentatives
are austere, nondescript, non-sensitive,
Broods smell the blood till viscous conceit
Grasps infant taxis.
Existence has its roots in total imprecation
Pure lessness is our bless and our curse -
Great Absence knows that stillborn will remorse
For capture in a pith of rotting germination.
Revulsion
© Copyright: Даниил Гергель, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117101400541
Свидетельство о публикации №117101400541
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Very impressive, Daniel! It is written in the best tradition of the American poetry... Although I couldn't be the professional expert, however I still can recognize the true poetry.
Cordially yours,
M.
Михаил Моставлянский 19.10.2017 23:14 • Заявить о нарушении
Cordially yours,
M.
Михаил Моставлянский 19.10.2017 23:14 • Заявить о нарушении
*flush* Thanks a lot! It is really important to get exactly your opinion. This poem is sullen a bit, but I was trying to express nothing, but reality. By the way, I was inspired by "Смерть" Владимира Янкелевича. This book is detrimental, but I have never read something like this. Sincerely yours!
Даниил Гергель 21.10.2017 22:48 Заявить о нарушении
Даниил Гергель 21.10.2017 22:48 Заявить о нарушении