Satish Verma

Gold Star - 53,919 Points (5-6-1935)

Aconite - Poem by Satish Verma

Polarity hits you at face, Thoughts. Move
inversely. The deed, words, slogans
divide the eternity of time. No hygienic
patience. Persons coming from channels only.

The thing. Image in hundred mirrors.
Varieties of fakes and counterfeits. Foeticide.
Paedophile. Necrophilia. Peddling pink flesh.
It is. Peels of skin left on roads. Your shape,
my contours, his art. I am passing through
a tunnel. Open-and-shut. No end. No beginning
Two nothings.

Will keep on moving. Roaches are scuttling
like rats with wings. Their country. We are
outsiders. Strangers. Not to reveal the names,
No landmarks on walls, intersections, doors.
No vigilance, No corporatized pain. No
bleeding wounds.

Impatience. Nobody opens the eyes.
Long sleep. I pray, no waking up.
Let the global warming end. Let the
terror die of its own Aconite.

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Comments about Aconite by Satish Verma

  • Lantz Pierre (1/31/2017 8:00:00 AM)

    Lay down in the cool comfort of the snow. Pull the whiteness down over your furrowed brow. Drink in the silence of the crystals that melt on your skin. That liquid skin will become your protective crust. (Report)Reply

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening



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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 8, 2007

Poem Edited: Thursday, April 14, 2011


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