Satish Verma

Gold Star - 43,588 Points (5-6-1935)

Collected Thoughts - Poem by Satish Verma

Like tussoh, I collect snow
after the blizzard, churning
the quartz, O December.

Time to hang my boots
and listen the call to quarters.
Windows would kill me.

I had my horrors
I had my wine.
The moon was still calling.

My thumb bleeds
for white skin of sun.
Who was depressed in night?

The collateral damage
is bound to happen; if drones
don’t listen to me.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about Collected Thoughts 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: Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Poem Edited: Tuesday, May 24, 2011

[Report Error]