When The Attack Comes Poem by Satish Verma
When The Attack Comes
Like a tantric I will
gather you and make you sleep
in my eyes.
In lantern festival, I
will be fighting dark
with hundred wicks.
The dead will come
back to talk about their
amputated thumbs.
You had no bona fides
to tell me how blue were
my aches.
I don't find any metaphor
in this qualified decay,
wiping my glasses to see clearly.
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/5/2024 6:48:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Evocative and concise, ambiguous yet rich with symbolic specifics, this is a delightful little gem of a poem. Thank you for sharing it.