Katana

Katana
--------

This is not a poetry session
but pure unmitigated passion,
where rhyme is secondary
to the underlying rhythm

A philistine commented
that I don't write poetry
that I write rap.

I agreed.

A gun enthusiast, a gun nut (I say po-tah-toe, you say po-tay-toe)
shotguns,pistols and rifles
recoil,headshots and bullet calibre
were all he could talk about

I said,mon frere
death by a bullet
a slow bleeding gullet,
is far less romantic
than cold slicing steel
of a katana forged with
a dead warrior's spirit

and far more common
than sprays of hot lead,
is a nick of steel blade
the gushing torrent of blood
the screaming pain
the welling heat

a mere cut finger
a mere kitchen knife
and such exquisite agony !
the purpling of the gash
the etching of a line
the birth of a scar

It's true,
I don't write poetry,
It comes out,
oozes,drips and dribbles
soaking wet the bandage of sanity

I don't write rap,
perhaps,
you just discovered
the rat-tat-tat
rhythm of my fighting words


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