Monday, February 13, 2023

From my WIP novella

Nuggets from ‘Nobody’s War’

 

 

 

Liberals, my friend, are bad for business.

 

Politics and poetry betray logic, Kwaqa.

 

It always takes an outsider. For better or for worse.

 

I do not age. I may die, but only if a system somewhere thinks it’s my time.

 

Men my age die alone, in sleep.

 

One must be in their element, no matter the situation.

  

There is a certain joy that poetry exudes. A sadness too. A beautiful, blue sadness.

 

Trust means nothing to us. It’s a phony construct. We do not deal in such currencies.

 

For some, information is a deterrent. For some, it is a call to action. For us, it is plain and simple leverage.

 

Her face shines in the moonlight like a sculpture. It’s his sculpture, a picture he has imagined and drawn and chiseled in his mind, a ripple of glimmer, a momentary breeze. For him, this togetherness lasts forever, though his mind tells him otherwise.

 

 Anant Dhavale 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Featured Post

A million years

A million years On whose shoulders perches the Eagle? Who mourns through gusts of the eastern rushing winds? A boy who grew up in dullne...