Monday, December 21, 2009


' the pub owner '

the brackish taste of his own sweat
begs a parole from the gulag
of daily drudgery,
of the mayonnaise
the ploughman's grub
the bittersweet cocktail,
served to the visitors
filling his space ,
where laughters intersect
the inside atmosphere ,
so he moves outward
to throw birdfeed
to the passerine
to the meadowlark
perched on their cherished haunt
a tree without a leaf
without a shade
of schadenfreude ..

/ original / z.g.

[ .. to everyone-everywhere -

` a very merry christmas ! ]


  1. Oh...I feel intersected here in a flow of special words..!

  2. .. u r right ' if '

    i feel the same way ..

  3. This is a special piece - it is truly felt.

  4. Lovely one :D....Have to admit, I need to rush to dictionary to understand few words.

  5. I had to find the definition of the last word... when I did... my first reaction, was Wow.

    It made the whole poem pop with meaning. This moved me deeply.


  6. Yes the gulag is the key to understanding the sense impressions of people's humble daily actions - for some a gulag - for others paradise you so see this in your work. thanks

  7. Such an interesting poem! Yes- I hit the dictionary as well- learned some new words- thanks!!! Happy Holidays!