Monday, October 19

Poetry Assignment - 2

Potrait of Helena

My face is a monument.
Tourists visit me, seeking
cheap relief. Scholars, to
unravel the layers beneath.

Do you see where the brows
meet? The asymmetrical
crookedness came about
through deep conflicts.

This charcoal grey around
me, is no stroke of artistry,
It is the chaos, the mayhem
that is my ash - grey history

The contours of my face
Are undefined geographies
Plundered by races for greed
I stand deprived of sanctity

This streak of red is blood
and not some cheap lip-gloss.
A testimony to man’s instinct,
I am no painting on the wall.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Excellent .. very meaningful....