by Steve Persaud
And the bloodletting never stops, cast
in some form of mathematical anomaly.
When I add, I find myself subtracting, and
my thoughts are divided when I multiply,
leaving me with an unsure quotient
and a grim remainder
Then I am placed in a square
that thinks It’s a rectangle and try
to do battle with a triangle for equal rights-
all ending in a pyrrhic victory.
And I, like a captive sun, look on
with stellar consternation at
this maelstrom of discontent-Sisyphean
ideals caught in the crosshairs of a crazed,
The overture continues with a malady
encapsulated in a melody of diminished
intervals with a harmony of diminishing returns.
Footnotes: There are none; keep marching though – left right, left right. The answer is found in the beat of one’s drum – a declaration of war, a declaration of peace or simply, one’s own declaration.
About the Author
Steve Persaud is a Music and English Teacher. His work has appeared in several Caribbean and American Anthologies. He is the winner of the audio company QSC writing competition and has done several radio programs where he provided background music to his poetry. He was selected to stay in one of the legendary cottages frequented by Ernest Hemingway and Martin Luther King based on his work being included in a Writers in Residence Program sponsored by the Big Game Club Resort and Marina, Bimini, Bahamas.