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Mark Anthony Netto. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.
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Anthony Netto poems
Mark Anthony Netto
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Night with the Living Dead
Wounded in battle from a long drawn fight;
Took refuge, late in the night, in a small burial ground;
Hungry and thirsty with no place to hide, fell asleep, in the dark of the night;
Woke to a sudden chilly breeze blow, that sent shivers and tremors right through my my spine;
The rustle and tussle of dry twigs and leaves, kept my eyes open with gleaming tears;
Shadows of darkness from big grumbling trees, felt like mammoths coming right at me;
Whisper in whispers from creatures around, felt like the world was angry with me.
Grumbling & scrambling with my two feet, hoped to catch a light in the dark.
Cris, crossing crosses, showed me a sign, only to quickly disappear again;
Huge was expansion, fighting direction seemed like an ocean filled with commotion,
in such proportion, that losing my quotient was simply a notion trying to flee from darkness & thee;
Slammed in the body by an ivory post that struck like a hand, from a man standing in silvery sand;
Fell to the ground with absolute sound that none could hear in such a town;
Woke the next morning shaking my ache, only to see voices awake;
Asking me questions that I could not take;
Managed to fumble and stumble away to a fresh start on happiness day