Mad, Sad, Bad

by Anita Lubesh

one syllable poem: poetry challenge


The call of the wild
is like death in the night.
Bleak shots ring out
in the air full with howls
let loose like doves,
but it soaks them up,

for there is no peace
as those with warm blood
and soft eyes,
have their blood spilt on lush
blades that in sun’s light
are a pea green sea
of frills, which turn to black
laced sport ‘s barbs of dried kin
on torn rags –

grass is stiff from blood rage,
tears hide stains
on sods of red earth, damp
with the id’s
drip of sweat and hot shells
strewn – a young fawn’s
cry is mute.

8 Responses to “Mad, Sad, Bad”

  1. Brilliant poem, thank you.

  2. Wow, this is wonderful. You have managed to say so much in so few syllables! 🙂


If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: