Poetry Was In Poem by Kulkarni Puttu

Poetry was in womb, exploded by the bomb
Spread pieces of flesh; like flowers of hope
Radiated raindrops pouched roots, to put fire
Bending trunk of scrawling, move to a shape

Poetry was in soul, buried it to store in a hole
Built bricks to seal the core; Blessings on board
Dumped garbage to tight it never allowed breath
Quacking earth-belt meditating slowly, to new hold

Poetry was in nature; covered by darken curtain
Smoky-chimneys splitting cloud, fallen sparrows on road
Drawings of crushed bodies, victories of devil wheels
Rushing rockets of modern illusions, search of crystal dew

Atoms of evolution, why in anti-clock direction
Dark waits for the spark in soul of nature's womb