Satish Verma (5-6-1935)
Ugliness in pink flakes
elopes with a terrorist.
Sun bleaches the black scorn
muscles ache with cramps.
Full moon peeps through the veil
of branches. Eucalyptus sways
in majestic conception.
Time to exude honey.
A perfect discrimination against
the trees. A painful ulcer on tongue
bleeds, pure as the malignant pain.
I will not talk about existence.
The shadow of god crops up.
Foolish dolls play the game.
Subjectivity has frills to counter
the drive of madness.
Anguish becoming responsible
to deliver the particles of imagination,
which move faster than death.
Future of man was in peril.
Comments about this poem (FUTURE by Satish Verma )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings