Satish Verma

Gold Star - 42,938 Points (5-6-1935)

A Sickened Craft - Poem by Satish Verma

Waiting for a chaste bread, whole
life under the moon,
to speak off the inconsistency of
with a monologue
of a needle in eyes
for a madness of sublime verse.

Canoeing in a frozen lake
for a stranded rose,
you stop at a bosky bank.
A weeping willow greets
the lost son.

A school bag measures the knowledge
of surrounding hills, who had
plucked out the stars
from the sky.

Comments about A Sickened Craft by Satish Verma

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, May 16, 2011

Poem Edited: Monday, May 16, 2011

[Report Error]